When my journey comes to the end,
let me find the strength
to know the truth.
Showing some kind of dignity
as I pass to the great beyond, near my God.

I leave little behind to know of me,
except the words I have penned,
with very little hue.
Just my heart and soul to view.

The words I write are my truth,
right or wrong, good or bad.
It is my truth of who I am
or at least as far as I can tell.

This time of year to express
love to the one held dear.
But why must it be just expressed
just this, once a year.

With the love that I feel
it should be every day.
Rather than to only express
it once this day, a single time of year.

So a card, flowers or something
sweet on this one day,
yet daily I will express my love,
every day of the year.

Sweetheart, I love you each and every day.

I was considering the perception
of my expectations of what I have perceived.

Then after consideration of my perceived,
perceptions of the expectations,

I changed my expectations perceived,
so my perceptions would not interfere.

With any of my perceived,
expectations that were a perception.