Stranger At the Door
oh stranger at the door, your face I cant tell
as you stumbled up the path at my feet's where you fell
beaten and bleeding I helped you in
not knowing the tragedy about to begin
I asked how this happened? who did this? and why?
but all you could do was sit there and cry
I fetched what I needed to clean you up
as well as hot milk that streamed from the cup
but when I returned you were face down on the floor
your sobbing had stopped, your pain was no more
of all the houses on this street
why choose my path to admit defeat?
all these questions I had and so many more
when a few later came a knock at the door
I opened it wide and invited him in
the officer entered, looked scared to begin
I am sorry to be the one to say
but earlier this week your mother passed away
I have no mother not seen her in years
then I suddenly saw the bloody tears
that streamed down the face of the lady in pain
as she said my name again and again
but my name I never mentioned, nor any other
now the cries are clear, help me please its me your mother.
Copyright © Kirsty Harrison | Year Posted 2013
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