It’s always the nice ones,

That God takes away,

Nobody knows why,

Because God never says.

But he must have his reasons,

Of which we’re unaware,

Perhaps he takes them to safety,

In Heaven, somewhere.

Safe from the hardships,

We inflict on ourselves,

And the depths of depravity,

To which us humans can delve.

Or maybe they are his angels,

And he just takes them home,

But whatever his reasons,

To us they’re unknown.

We just feel the loss,

The pain and the grief,

And the void in our lives,

From the moment they leave.

And no matter how much,

We did for them before,

It is never enough,

And we wish we’d done more.

We wish we’d seen them more often,

Or phoned more at least,

And been a much better Father,

Son, Daughter, Brother or niece.

And whatever the age,

They got to at the end,

It was not old enough,

Not for loved-ones like them.

Because they are the nice ones,

The gentle and kind,

The sort the rest of us spend our lives,

Just trying to find.

Then when we finally find them,

They’re gone far too soon,

Though God must have his reasons,

I have to assume.

Perhaps he knows that the world,

Is near the end of its days,

And he has taken the nice ones,

To help pave the way.

Up Jacobs ladder,

To those big pearly gates,

And the Heaven that each of us,

Hopes will await.

And though to us lowly mortals,

It seems unfair and perverse,

Perhaps that is the reason,

God takes the nicest ones first.

By S.E.Ralph

20-3-2022