Tears . . .


When death reaches out for us, I pray,

That I die before you, I’d never bear to be

At your funeral, to see your lifeless face,

So beautiful even in death, or,

touch your forehead at the morgue,

I can sense tears in my eyes

Even thinking of it, dear, so I pray . . .

Someday when I’m dead, you can talk about me,

To your grandchildren, and then I hope they say

“granny…he loved you so much…”

And I want you to not cry at that dear,

But, to smile…your beautiful smile.


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