For Whicky: because you are a truly wonderful poet.
Just because I feel this way,
Doesn’t mean it’s real.
Just because the doctors say
My heart will never heal.
It doesn’t mean a thing to me,
When I’m here with you.
I’m right where I’m meant to be,
And nothing else is true.
But deep inside I cannot hide,
From reality.
Every time you look my way,
I see it in your eyes.
At the closing of the day,
Are these our last goodbyes?
I feel your arms around me now,
Strong, but oh so weak.
For behind you the lowered cowl,
Of Death I always seek.
And every moment spent with you,
Is merely borrowed time.
And there is nothing I can do,
To cure nature’s crime.
For deep inside my heart has died,
A little more each day.
And now as we lie in the sun,
The light begins to dim.
I know my life is almost done,
But I cannot leave him.
I look at him, and see he knows;
His tears caress my cheek.
They glitter there like fallen snow,
And their cold reaches deep.
Mere days ago we made our vows;
I was to be his wife.
But it seems my heart was made for love,
And never meant for life.
