As I walked through the valley of the shadow of death,
I took your hand and held my breath,
For love is patient, love is kind,
Those moments challenged my depth of mind.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,
unparalleled; unprecedented; dreams and crimes.
Happily ever after they were not meant to be,
their puppy love memories, lost somewhere at sea.
To somebody you just might be the world,
so dizzy from spinning, I heaved and I hurled.
Like we, God saw her getting tired,
and her race, her fight, her love, my eyes so much admired.
When the last inch of your strength un-quelled,
This is what it meant to be HELD.
People will forget what you do and say,
But the memories will always stay.
Short and sweet,
with every beat.
Like the woo,
of Satisfy you.
Happy Birthday to me,
most special it will be,
Perfectly Imperfect our letters,
© 2013 L.K.Sorrows
Comments about this poem (So Cliche by Little King of Sorrows )
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