When someone who was too young too die
Is taken away without a reason why
The angels sing, the angels cry
The tears that fall are not tears at all
But memories that will never die
When angels cry there is no pain
Just a never-ending constant rain
Suffering, there is no more
Just glory and safety to all

When angels cry
The whole world knows
They gather the tears up like
delicate petals from a rose
The scent from each one destroys all fears

When angels cry
People try to understand
How someone too young could
be placed under the great Creator's hand
The answer to this question may never be known

When angels cry crystal tears
We glance up and have no fears
For that person who was too young to die
Is now also an angel
Singing their songs of mourning
and crying their tears of memory
Up in the sky

Author, Witchery

(Do Not Cry)

Do not stand at my

grave and weep. I am not there,

I do not sleep. I am a thousand

winds that blow. I am the diamond's

gift on snow. I am the sunlight

on ripened grain. I am the gentle

autumn's rain. When you awaken

in the morning's hush, I am the swift

uplifting rush of quiet birds

in circled flight. I am the soft stars

that shine at night. Do not stand at

my grave and cry;

I am not there,

I did not die.

(Author Unknown)