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by Steph
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1084909
Imagining my life as I get really old and approaching death.
If by chance we both make it beyond seventy-seven years old,
I will remember these words I once read to you in the coldest cold.

After my hands have crippled with old age,
and I am unable to write another thought-
Hold tight to the dreams we once sought.

When the fire within us begins to dim,
and your fear of abandonment creep in-
Keep thoughts of our laughter close.

For it was the short time spent with you that I lived the most.

So many of my first experiences came to be with you,
The feelings of belonging and contentment were all so new.

The mile-stone throughout these seventy-seven years began when you eased my broken heart.
Ending my long years will be the day you and I are torn apart.

© Copyright 2006 Steph (jaded_realms at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1084909-Remember-December