by Richard J, Hobbs
Six years have since ensued,
And yet the right words
Persist to elude.
A grim day, hard to fit the mood..
And if I wasn't slim paid,
Her name I'd get tattooed.
I know it's hard not to cry,
Or keep emotions subdued
I swear I dab my eye,
Whenever I think of her food.
But I know the dead can view;
The dead can see,
That through you
Is lived their legacy.
Together again you'll be..
Inevitably.
- Share this Poem:
