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A few years ago,a family I knew lost their son.He was 16 years old.

He was preparing for his board exams(10th grade) when it happened.He was studying when his uncle insisted him to come along with him.They met with an accident on their way.He died on the spot,his uncle was serious,and got admitted.The doctors asked his family to not tell him about the kid’s death.For now,the uncle’s okay.At least physically,the guilt must be a battle to fight everyday.

The accident was least expected.I heard later,that the kid had his text-book with him,as he didn’t want to lose any time in his preparations.There was so much more for him to accomplish,so much more to do.So many exams to write.But he was gone.

A few months later,at a funeral of someone else.My aunt saw the mother there.She didn’t know about the death.But she was at the graveyard.She said she came there everyday to visit her son’s grave.His grand-mom talked about how there is no happiness with him gone.This is a poem I wrote then.I would like to share it with you guys today.

May the kid Rest in peace.

Her son.

images

He looks out everyday,

to see if she has come.

To see if she is near,

To hear her say,

“I have got lilies today,dear.”

Her every visit,

means a lot.images (2)

Because it gets lonely and dark.

When he is caught under the grains of sand.

Left alone,

when he cannot reach out.

Or even hold his mother’s hands.

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She thinks of him,

Every moment of her

painful life.images (4)

Because with him gone,she has no desire to live.

No drive to fulfill her roles.

To be a daughter or a wife.

As he meant to her 

more than words could ever describe.

His smile could make her day,

But now there is no other way,

To keep his memories alive,images (3)

then to strive

on old videos and photographs.

To take a glance of how happy they were,

when they had their first mother-son dance!

All those special times,

she stores in her broken  heart.

And after all being done,

with tears in her eyes.

She begins to leave,

to be with her son.images (1)

There she goes and says,

with a heavy heart,

sitting by his grave,

“Wow! my little boy.

Through all this,

you’ve been very,very brave!”

                                 -Sabah Batul.