Do Not Cry For Me You Ungrateful Children

Do not stand on my grave and weep My adult children: you see I was alive for 92 years, You never came to visit or act like you care I was there, I never move away I was the one who put food on the table Cloth you, during the rough days I shield you from the harsh reality in this world The world in which I must now leave Loneliness, heartbreak and man-made diseases While the wet snow creep in my old brown boot I count all seven of you. As you sip your bowls of soups I was there, I never made a move. Do not stand at my grave and weep For thirty years my offspring avoid me An evening of Psalm and Hymns Would never make amends; it’s thee end of my journey Do not stand at my grave and cry. Go shelter from the rain. let the cloud weep for me while the rivers and ravens shown solidarity. Do horses mind the rain/storms? Do not stand at my grave and weep The fog surround my grave like a white woven drape No more prays, no more tears.