and i saw the tears my mother cried
when her little daughter died
i couldn’t help to comfort her
i couldn’t speak or call to her
i stood like glass against the wall
she couldn’t seem to see me at all
i had become a kind of ghost
to her, the lady i loved the most
and when she walked up to the grave
i saw the tombstone bore my name
but it was nonsense, all of it
a horror tale that didn’t fit
why did she cry while i stood here
mirroring every one of her tears?
why was i dead? when did i die?
how could i make my mother cry?
it made no sense. who was to blame?
i had died, but my mother felt the pain