The Anonymous Weeper
5/7/20
I hear the murmurs of my children lost,
And the echoes of their joyous play,
I hear it in the autumn wind,
And also, in the winter rain,
My dears, I have paid the cost,
I had bidden my children stay,
And though they tried until the end,
Nothing but their ghosts remain.
"The only thing that anybody really knows about this author is that he is a real nutcase."
-Anonymous reporter
Well...