Manuel Jimenez Montoya

God saw you getting tired,
When a cure was not to be.
So He wrapped his arms around you,
and whispered, “come to me.”
You didn’t deserve what you went through,
So He gave you rest.

God’s garden must be beautiful,
He only takes the best
And when I saw you sleeping,
So peaceful and free from pain
I could not wish you back
To suffer that again.