A memory so painful, stocked at the back of his mind, Worldly matters trivial, he must remind, At the clink of marbles, jolt back did he to reality, And for the day, it remained forgotten. As free as the breeze could be, Whilst on the ride to school was he, Twas his favourite game of marbles, you see, That made him forget the very pain, the very grief. Morning sun was crisp and bright, Everything on Saturday just seemes so right. School left early that day, to home he'd run, He'd water his plants and look forward to an eve of fun. Class started with Math that day, And he wasn't much of a genius, you see, Went off into a deep slumber, did he, Till the teacher awoke him, without asking him to mind his "Q's and P's". Last class was English Reading, Tis exciting to read fairytales though he, How the Prince reduced the wicked ogre to cinerary, Wouldn't Mama love to hear the story? The school bell rang, he finally was out, Rushed as fast as a storm, amidst the screams and shouts. The afternoon was genial, it had been a fair day, After all, he pondered, why tomorrow's a Sunday! As he neared his red cottage, now dull as lead, Slowly the faded memory came back to his head. As dreadful a feeling as a gathering storm, Mama isn't here, she's forever gone! Lonely as a leper, he walked down the street, Tears like quicksilver, flowing down his cheeks. The final valediction to his Mama dearest, Came with his stone stoic sob of grief!