The Telegraph
The Telegraph
How does it feel; it must be unreal
For a Chaplin to knock on your door
Then to place in your hand a short telegram
That says that your loved one’s no more
Then for how many days are you lost in the haze
Rereading those short little lines
How can they be true; this can’t happen to you
Oh, how your lonely heart pines
And how about the other; the wife or the mother
Whose loved one is missing in action
She’s left with uncertain; not knowing but hurtin’
How can she go on with no traction
She won’t want to admit; even think about it
He’ll come back but still there’s that doubt
So she clings to herself; puts her life on the shelf
Not sure what her life is about
And though it takes years; she will dry all those tears
And do her best just to survive
For she knows in her heart; in a quiet loving part
That in there her loved one’s alive
Mdailey 6/7/12
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