by Donna Doyle
The little boy knelt down to pray
He pondered long on words to say
His folded hands, his tear stained face
His childish mind controlled the pace
Of words that stumbled from his lips
Held close his trembling finger tips-
"Dear God, I thought you had to know
We couldn't say "goodbye" and so
Point stars that show us Keisha's light
To guide our kisses every night
Make sure before she goes to bed
You scratch her ears and pat her head
And whisper low so she can hear
That, though we miss her, have no fear
You'll help us take the hurt away
And make us stronger when we pray.
It isn't much to ask, it's true
We know our Keisha's home with you".

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