The trembling finger of a mother
Whose child is about to die;
She tries to choke back the sobs,
She can't help but cry.
The timeclock on the table
Reads a quarter after one;
The emergency door opens
And the surgery is done.
The doctor looks into her eyes
As he manages a grin;
He says, "Your son is fighting it
And it looks like he will win."
Relief fills her teary eyes
And her heart floods with joy;
A lucky mother on this day
Will see her little boy.