Blas Cisneros Jr.

God saw you getting tired,

And a cure was not to be.

So he put his arms around you

And whispered “Come with Me”

With tearful eyes

We watched you suffer,

And saw you fade away.

Although we could

Not bear to lose you,

We could not ask you to stay.

A golden heart stopped beating,

Hardworking hands laid to rest.

God broke our hearts

To prove to us,

That He only takes the best.