25,000 morningsA Poem byJust another love poem. Sorry people of the WritersCafe website.Life is just boxes and junk inside jars, Weird old antiques and ugly guitars. Oh, but we know, that these things made us happy.
The skies overhead are nothing to fear, The planets intact and no one is near. Oh, but the kids today are in love with the mystery.
There's dust on the toys and ripped magazines, Creaking wood floors and holes on old jeans. Oh, but we love to look through the life we once lived.
The clocks have stopped ticking and the pets have all died, Our skin is done rotting and our minds are both fried. Oh, but our journey isn't even close to being finished.
My eyes are closing while your's are still wide, I can't imagine death without you by my side. Oh, but your love will make my traveling go easily.
The doctors today say that we only live on average, 25,000 mornings. I may not have been able to spend every single one of them with you, but I spent the happiest ones with you. Thank you for making my life not so simple.
With love, Your Love.
© 2010Author's Note
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