Member Poem

It was cold
At the crem
Where my mother lay
Cold and dead

I thought of the times
When I could have gone
I should have gone

Over to the cold
Dark house
By the moor

To spend an hour
At most
Before she tired

And dropped away
For good

I didn’t ask the questions
I should have gone
To ask

I was cold
In the crem
Where my mother lay
Cold, now dead

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