Cancer

It took her,
It took her away,
I can look at the place,
Where she lay.

I miss her so much,
My dearest aunt,
She was sweet and good,
And that is what count.

She was taken by death,
He is called grim reaper,
And I still wonder why,
He is such a seeker.

Why did he take her?
She was so young,
We saw to late,
Her sickness come.

A victim of cancer,
And now she is dead,
On her grave I lays,
A flower so red.

by Anna Turtle

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