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

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