When I was young I used to pray
That I would be a mom one day
I’d raise my offspring to be good
And do the things that children should.
I’d hoped that we’d fulfill the dream
It was a lock or so it seemed
The angels watched from up above
And filled their heads with care and love.
But love is not enough to save
Each one of them from perils grave
There is no way that we may know
Wherein life’s tragedies will grow.
In winds of war or illness great
Who knows the time or day or date ?
Claire V. Bogdanos 