She cried tears of pain,

Of that much I could tell.

Under the Willow tree,

It’s leaves cradling her face.

It wasn’t the silent tears of hidden shame.

Nor the the angers tears of loneliness.

It was the raw tears of agony.

She wasn’t shrieking yet,

But she has every right to.

For what worse anguish is there,

Than a Mother’s loss of her child.