RIP MATTHEW

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  • Death

    RIP MATTHEW

     We used to talk
    We used to laugh
    We were best of friends
    I thought that's how it would always be
    You taught me so much
    Told me exactly what to say
    I wish it were still the same
    But someday I know it will
    Maybe not today
    But we'll meet up again
    It won't be long until I see your face
    In Heaven that marvelous day

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    Reyna18’s Poems (2)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    RIP MATTHEW 0 02/01/2010
    Mother 1 02/01/2010

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