that we could collect in a vial the pain felt through a lifetime the pangs of birth and teething and longing for kisses and warm embraces the inconsolable weeping of midnight the melancholy of solitude the grief of loss that we could pour God this vile of tears bitter digestif in his day of rest that He may writhe, doubled-over, trembling slobbering, eyes bloodshot in hopelessness in the agony of His children that two wrongs could make a right and the knowledge of His suffering should bring us solace - - the grief that chokes our throats allows only the softest of wails - hushed prayers His infinite mercy should silence that day His kingdom comes and cleans this Earth of our misery such was my mother's hope and faith she who never saw this thing come to pass and never will [16-III-08]