Oh my son I wish you saw
Your mother in that fancy dress
Her short blonde hair twisted upon her head
and healing the flowers that once were dead
A dress that was pastel and long and sweet
A dress of marriage that went down to her feet
Oh son, I loved her
So much I say
that if I could see her to this day
I'd sing to her
Tell her she's my queen
Hold her tight and drown her screams
She will cry and watch her blood run clean
Her beautiful hair drenched red and I'll sing
Son
Sing to me

Escalated quickly, also those last three or four poems and this one were written by me wooooooooo

-Alice