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A Book of Memories
 
 

There is a great reduction in the quality of my life,

These contractions came about on the day I lost my wife.

An abatement, a deflation, of what had gone before,

I'd been pampered, I'd been cherished, I'd been loved

and what is more,

I'd been selfish in the taking of all these precious things,

These gifts that had been given freely by my Angel without wings.

 

I had squandered all the love that had been bestowed on me

A self destructing bankrupt as all the world can see.

It is only on reflection, when the dice of life's been cast

That one is forced to face the truth, or live life in the past.

The past for me was wonderful, years of happiness and love,

We shared those years together and lived life hand in glove.

 

The past is now just memories, memories I cannot share,

Haunting, lonely memories from those days we were a pair.

Those plans we'd made together, for retirement and old age

Are plans I dare not now recall in case I start to rage.

I cannot control my temper, my frustration knows no bounds,

I snap at my subordinates, when really there's no grounds.

 

It's time for me to face that truth and get on with my life,

It's time I closed that wondrous book, of the years spent with my wife.

It's now time to face tomorrow and those tasks tomorrow brings,

It's time to seek out happiness, till once more my heart sings.

So with reluctance I close the book at this chapter in my life,

And seal those memories in my heart of Joyce my darling wife.

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Copyright 2005 David Burt , all rights reserved
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