Twas twelve twenty-one two thousand and ten,
When your sweet soul left, not the earth but a mark.
A mark of that of a rose in which never dies,
Upon my desk your eyes will forever lie.
Grandma you were a saint to anyone who knew.
Never disrespect, nor not loved always was you.
No words or rhyme can justify your love,
Grandma you inspire more than can be loved.
But when you were taken you layed so sweet,
I wept for days, nights, I could barely sleep.
But you came in my dreams, night to day,
Confronted me and helped me become myself today.
Grandma you are my hopes and prayers,
Grandma you are that of a loving red rose.
You were a mother to me, one thing ive not had,
Everything you were was to give and not to have.
I know you will help me through thick and thin,
Grandma, Martha, you are without any sin.
You touched many lives more than you know,
I hope when death comes I will have that to also show.
I can not express my sadness, my griefs from within,
Grandma I still need to you guide me from within.
But I know you are here forever and for more.
And when I look to the heavens I know they sing,
Martha Haubert, with an angelous ring.
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