And in this world of poems--
Be that feeling that never finds words to travel from heart to paper;
Make it your home, let there be no book,
that can treat you better.
In this world of tattoos,
Be that scar;
That we don't carve,
Let it prove that there are wounds-
That make pain sweeter.
In this world of bouquets and stars
Be the long walks on the grass,
Where dew wets our bare weary feet,
Underneath the opaque saddened sky.
No crimson petals. Not lilies nor roses in red,
But in hues of blue and green;
Let memories be made and never fade,
Let 'forever' felt near,
Not as vague as it appears.