Monday, May 16, 2011

Chances are
I will be the goodbye
To your hello.

I have gained
A century of pounds
Since that first day.

Weathered hands
I refuse to accept.
Love learned roughly.

Love maintained
I have, regretfully
Taken idle.

Paint my life,
Let us try to make the
Most of our time

My promise:
That these remaining days
Will not lose you.

Remind me
Until that future day
Mother, Father.




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