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