Please watch after me
as a caring mother would her child
even after I have long passed on.
Set calla lilies on my grave,
and dust off my gravestone
as I lie below gruesome and lone.
Should I live long and seem ancient
with moles and wrinkles, aches and pains
And become wholly apathetic -
Just kiss me on the forehead again and again,
and work your hands to massage my troubling cricks.
But never, never pity me should I fall sick.
For now while I am young
with little discretion and knowledge,
while I am still a dreamer...
Do not be sorrowed when I fail,
nor when I do wrong, be bitter.
I ask that you guide me in every endeavor.
Not because it's easy, but 'cause you love me, ever
In my humble opinion. A Stunning Write. A picture painted with pastel words. Thank You so much. Regards. Craig.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
fantastic read! thank you