Face in the Window
Heathen57
In the dusk of the evening,
The twilight of the day,
A child awaits his father
To come home so they can play.
Just a small young child,
His years were only three
His young face in the window
Daddy’s arrival to see.
But there comes an illness
And the child can’t understand,
For no longer by the window,
But by a bed he now stands.
One day the bed is empty,
His friend, His father is gone.
Many people surround him,
But inside he is alone.
Not understanding the loss,
For now just past three,
Daddy doesn’t come home now,
But where, where could he be?
So still he stands and watches,
As the tears stream down his face.
You can see his face in the window,
Peering through the curtains of lace.