I wrote this after a hard night of work. |
time so ill used, often abused, or broken time neglected, perhaps time rejected time doesn't heal everything i read a poem while she lay in bed a bed that now has become a place that gives her no choice some days, a bed that gives her no voice wondering, am i there for her, or myself both i pray her personality has always been a bright light already i've learned she's better at dying than i've ever been at living folks like her will always make me try harder, did i do everything i could learning to dig deeper each time it's never been easy, and i wouldn't have it any other way from a notebook binder, she listens to the words that stumble from my mouth such a lady, so practical and real when i finish, she finds rest, and sleeps i know lots of people like me blessed to work with them daily together we are often one when i close my eyes to dream, i think by now... they must have about a million friends in heaven i'm not sure anymore did i choose to do this, or did it me wonder how many of us ask that question maybe it doesn't matter, maybe it's not important in our hearts, it's time well spent |