Hear the Children Crying

Laying in bed I hear it.
I hear the children cry.
Crying for a mother,
who never said good bye.

Voices in the darkness,
loud, and strong, and true.
Convinced that she will return
just like she used to do.

I hear the children crying,
for a mother far away.
perhaps if she could hear them,
she would try harder to stay.

I hear the children crying,
who want naught but to not be alone.
I hear them crying for a mother,
who is never coming home.