I believe I've probably died a thousands deaths since my wife passed on but I'm still here for I have to be In order to keep her memory alive I have to remain here no one else can do this In the time I have left In this world, need to keep writing, some where some how someone will read her poems and publish them For all the world to read and then I'll be allowed to rest In peace I will have kept my promise To make her known through out the world for the beautiful person she was
Purpose In this to make my Helen known throughout the world for the beautiful person she really was
A continuation of life is to look for death Searching and craving with each simple step A purpose thereafter sets how you lived Belief in the invisibility of a creature Dependability on those yet to be glanced What if the end of the search is darkness? What if it is light?
you have experienced this before even though you haven't? you have been to this place before even though you haven't? you have seen this person before even though you haven't? you have known this person you have just met for all your life even though you haven't met them before? you can read every frown on their face telling a story?
Does this happen because our spirits come out to play together and visit the places when we all are asleep?
I should've known all this time how I got over new friends the hurt when you didn't tell me first frothy anger when I found out about the first trying to take your time, "protect you" overbearing jealous conceited daydream about kissing you... but we were friends the first poem... friends? that night in November when I came to conclusion... I felt we were- could be more than friends you felt the same but there was a second man already and I had to put my delusion aside and be happy for you and for myself...
based off a past relationship, I didn't like how jealous I was and it disgusted me