Mother, why do you go?
Your time's surely not for a while;
I wanted my children to know
the woman behind the kind smile.

Mother, why do you speak
as if trouble was nothing at all?
Your heartbeat is fragile and weak,
and your ears will be hearing the call.

Mother, why do you sleep?
The drugs come to take you away -
while all of the rest of us weep,
and know that you can't last a day.

Mother, why do we weep?
It is always for us, not for you.
You surround us with love as you sleep;
but by dawn, you'll be born all anew.