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My Mary.She struggles out of bed each night To take me to the loo. She washes me and wipes me, The things she has to do. And when I say, Oh thank you dear, She smiles and says, Love you. I know like me she`s getting old, And spends her life in pain, Yet still she does so much for me, And never does complain. And when I say, Oh thank you dear, Her smile keeps out the rain. My Mary cares for me each day, I`m such a lucky man, Because for love she serves me well In every way she can. And when I say, Oh thank you dear, She smiles and says, Oh Dan! When at last God takes me home I`ll whisper in His ear, Don`t leave my Mary all alone Bring her to me up here. And when I tell my Mary this She smiles and sheds a tear. Vote for this poem |
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