Whatever you did not write, will never be written. A door shut tight, Train out of sight, Memories erased. Did they even exist? vaporous air, was smoke.
The worse death, to leave nothing behind. But worst for me, who love you, now have nothing to trace back roots.
How will I discover, and uncover, pen in hand An archeologist bending on her shovel, and dustpan. How do I follow your handwriting like pebbles to lead me home on forsaken paths from the dark wood.
Whatever you didn't write, I will. Open that door, bring back that train Now your memories are words.
Mother, Engineer, writer, manager, and more. I am a bit of everything, a creature of God. I am passionate with life. I fear death and its many forms. I love my mind, cherish my body. I express through WORDS.
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