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Three Holiday Seasons

It has been three holiday seasons since she has been gone,

As I sat here in tears, something is horribly wrong.

There is a man asking questions; trying to tear her memory apart,

Does he not see the scars he is putting on my heart?

People are being questioned about her; they are telling lies,

Somewhere in the distance a lonely song bird cries.

I cannot celebrate holidays as I did in days gone by,

Every Christmas Eve I sit and cry.

What if it were your own mother who had to die this way?

Can you honestly tell me you could ever celebrate another holiday?

I have not put up a Christmas tree in the years that she has been gone,

I try to get back to normal, but the pain is much to strong.

When this battle is over, I will plant a Christmas tree by Mom's grave,

It will stand as a living memory of a woman very brave.

ęcopyright Johnnie Oakes

8/13/03