We dress to leave
We leave behind
An unmade bed
Sheets all wrinkled
The covers all untucked
It looks as if a struggle took place
But that is not the case
It was just two people
Who love each other
As they played on the bed
The only thing we take with us
Are the memories of this day
11-30-09/RJH
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem