He wished her to remember him.
When he had gone, she found them
Tiny paper notes.
We weep no more for those we love and are gone,
How many tears were shed now the eyes are dry.
A last phone call, a morning kiss, a hand held briefly.
Memories as shadows in darkness always with us.
Dwell not on the sun that will never shine again,
That heartfelt agony to never again see her face.
Does she know the hurt the, regret, the pain,
The skies now darken and close is the ended race.
She liked her sausages well done and not too many.
Her plate was full with a whole English Breakfast.
Three at the table with jam marmite, bread and butter.
His eyes narrowed as he saw her uneaten sausage,
Her love was like a demand for unpaid tax.
First the brown paper envelope suggested dread.
Then the demand said...'PAY UP',
He demanded an appeal on the £3480.40.