This is older one, wanted to bounce it off y'all.
I took my three young boys to her grave today,
We come once a month, first Sunday of the month.
The boys always pick wild flowers to bring before we go,
She loved it when they picked her flowers,
It’s always a fun occasion, a little picnic lunch,
Set up a family picture,
The two younger boys don’t really understand, they know she’s gone.
They don’t realize what we’re doing, or why.
They miss her, I do too.
She always made a big breakfast on Saturday mornings,
Waffles, eggs, bacon, sausage.
She would bring me my coffee in bed in the morning.
On the boy’s waffles she sprayed whip cream,
They would open they’re mouths and she sprayed it in there, they loved it.
She was a great mom,
And a good wife,
When she got in the accident,
I didn’t even realize she had left,
She died with another man riding with her,
They both died,
Head on collision,
She drops the boys off every weekend,
I still visit her grave once a month on Sunday’s.
One of my first, wrote it in jail.