Tuesday, January 2, 2024
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God saw him getting tired,
And a cure was not to be
So he put his arms around him
And whispered
"Come To Me"
With tearful eyes
We watched him suffer,
And saw him slowly fade away.
Although we loved Him dearly,
We could not make him stay.
A golden heart stopped beating,
Hardworking hands put to rest,
God broke our hearts
To prove to us,
He only takes the best.
Love you, Papa.
