by Jim Bozeman

Living all alone she was bound to be

A target for the blues

In a four room house with a fuel oil heater

And linoleum floor worn thin

By worn out shoes

You could count the years in her wrinkled smile

And the fleeting hands of time

Had touched her hair with a little bit of silver

And her sorrowed eyes

Could reach out and touch your mind

And the sadness of Mary makes me weep

People can be so cruel to one another

And it was much too late

Too many years ago

The sadness of Mary is complete

Blacks and whites were the only colors

She allowed herself to wear

Other colors brought back the sad reminders

And colorless dreams were easier to bear

Reds and blues and emerald greens

Were the colors of joy and light

But the joy had long since been stolen from her

And the colors of hope

Had passed her in the night

In a rocking chair by a faded picture

Of Jesus on the wall

She sat and thought about the years gone by

And how the love of Jesus

Was all she’d ever known

But the love of Jesus couldn’t take her back

To the times that might have been

When the fires of youth seemed to burn forever

Now the fires had turned

To ashes in the wind

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