This man brings me flowers.
He says he's my son
but he can't be
he's much too tall.

He insists that he is.
I'm so confused,
He looks nothing like him
at all.

My son, John is young
and blonde, not grey.
I miss him so much
but he's gone away.

Who is this woman
that smiles at me
and holds my hand
so gently.

She says she's my daughter
and calls me Mum.
I don't know why
these strangers come.

I wish my children
would come instead
and stay for a while
Beside my bed.