Not My Love

I sit here with my memories

With notes and pens and things to say

Yet the lines keep getting blurrier and the pain takes my thoughts away.

I think of my beloved ones

I hold an image close

and then I start to articulate

exactly what it's meant

to be their friend, mother, lover, wife.

And I can truly say that even though I'll be gone, but not so for my love.

I'd tell them through my printed page

that each and every year I tried to better myself for them

to equal what they've given me

and caused me to become.

So they would know that I was gone, but not my love.

The words came quicker than the ink

but finally it was complete,

I had written every single thing

to tell them how I felt

and they would have the chance to hear my voice although I'm gone.

They would have the opportunity to hang upon my every word

because there are, oh, so many words written on the page

And because the ink I chose is permanent they will always know one thing: I'll be gone away from them, but not so for my love.