Every day as a small child, I would stop by my Great Aunts room and ask if she would like some fresh water. Mostly she was bedridden, I remember it was very painful for her to move. She’s been dead for many years but she still lives on in my memory.
Anna Murphy was her name
She never was a bride.
The man she loved
Was whisked away
to marry someone else.
The nights grew long
But years grew short
No longer a red haired lass
The old maiden aunt took to her bed
To pray for death at last
But death didn’t come so easily
To the broken hearted beauty
Many years of pain and suffering
Was to be our Anna’s duty
Though Anna never had children
Her name lives on with mine
Maryanna, Roseanna, Brianna,
Is the ending to Anna’s rhyme
fisfall
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