Daily I think of my missing three,
Numerous questions haunting me.
Are they happy and well,
Or are they in agony and Hell?
Do they know how I love them still,
That them not being here is not my will?
Is it love or hate they feel for me?
Never again my face do they want to see?
Do I cross their minds, even a little bit?
Or do they not think of me, not one wit?
I pray that they are happy and well,
I pray that they are not living my Hell.