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Somewhere the poor mother of a prodigal son cries,

Her eyes reddened  and not taking in much at all,

For she’s seeing her son through the eyes of love

Not how the world sees him at all…

 

For somewhere the mother of a prodigal prays…

O how this poor mother prays.

 

For every thief is some poor mother’s child,

He has captured her heart in love’s ransom-

Yet to her she still sees the son of her youth;

But he’s stolen all of her dreams…

 

For somewhere the mother of a prodigal prays…

O how this poor mother prays.

 

Desperately and frantically the murderer flees

Yet from this one thing he can’t ever flee-

The love of his mother bowing in sorrow,

Bemoaning a love he can’t kill…

 

For somewhere the mother of a prodigal prays…

O how this poor mother prays.

 

For every trembling junkie finally taking a fix

There’s a hurting mother just wondering why

The life that she gave him just isn’t enough;

And she bows her head slowly and cries…

 

For somewhere the mother of a prodigal prays…

O how this poor mother prays.

 

The gavel thumps and the sentence is passed

She is ushered out as her son’s led away.

As tears flow down each side of her face

She still finds the strength to pray…

 

For somewhere the mother of a prodigal prays…

O how this poor mother prays.

 

So for every news article that you ever read

Of sons that have gone their own way,

Remember that he has a mother who cares

And lift her to God when you pray…

 

For somewhere the mother of a prodigal prays…

O how this poor mother prays.

 

 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks 2005

 

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