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A faded leather notebook filled with lines he'd never read
  Was never far away from where he slept
The book that she had written since her love was but a seed
  A book so full of her he always wept
She never let him read it and he teased her every day
But now he held her poems as he missed her every way

Each page is filled with all her hopes her love and yes her dreams
  Each verse is filled with him in every line
His life is now an ancient suit that's split in all the seams
  Each day another step on his decline
She was the only reason that he woke up every day
The woman that he loves and now he misses every way

He tried to read the sonnets that his son said were so sweet
  But never could he read beyond the first
For all the lines were tortures his endurance could not meet
  With every word he thought his heart had burst
She had written in the notebook at the end of every day
And her poems are the loving that he craves in every way

And now the leather notebook lies there clasped in lifeless hands
  He'll never read the verses of her heart
But his mourning son beside him has a soul that understands
  His father never had the strength to start
He will treasure all the poems that were written every day
They're the story of his parents whom he loved in every way

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