A faded leather notebook filled with lines he'd never read Was never far away from where he slept The book that she had written since her love was but a seed A book so full of her he always wept She never let him read it and he teased her every day But now he held her poems as he missed her every way
Each page is filled with all her hopes her love and yes her dreams Each verse is filled with him in every line His life is now an ancient suit that's split in all the seams Each day another step on his decline She was the only reason that he woke up every day The woman that he loves and now he misses every way
He tried to read the sonnets that his son said were so sweet But he could never read beyond the first For all the lines were tortures his endurance could not meet With every word he thought his heart had burst She had written in the notebook at the end of every day And her poems are the loving that he craves in every way
And now the leather notebook lies there clasped in lifeless hands He'll never read the verses of her heart But his mourning son beside him has a soul that understands His father never had the strength to start He will treasure all the poems that were written every day They're the story of his parents whom he loved in every way