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Created on: October 14, 2008
'I think it's time' she whispers As her life is nearing its end The too short journey is over Her husband holds her shaking hand
So afraid to keep holding on But never wanting to let go What will he do without her? Neither of them know
As her breathing gets much slower He leans in for one last touch 'I love you my sweet darling Your memory will be my crutch'
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