Beyond Midnight
He lay awake and hoped to die,
Hot tears were rolling down his cheeks:
The Cancer took his wife that night
(Although she’d bravely fought for weeks).
The clock was striking half past twelve;
A sudden light appeared and shone;
His wife was smiling, touched his hand,
She whispered love - and then was gone…
For Andrea’s One in Three, Write Beautifully contest
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2013
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