I'm done
My life is fun
I did my part
With my apple cart
All my working days
I dreamed of writing plays
But I stuck to the family business
I accepted no praise and his kisses
We were married and had a home
I'd never felt less alone
He died five years later
And in my heart sat a huge crater
I gave up on the Apple tree's
And I wrote plays and tended to bees
My son was the one who trusted me
Which was normal, since he was three
I won an award
I had an applaud
Now my son is not young
He can now hold his tongue
My grandkids are sweet
I have two working feet
I can die and join Him up there
Knowing my life was good and fair
I love you, my husband
I love you, my son
