Its Over
A fathers touch ain't like no other.
A mothers love could never smother..
Each can teach, love, hug and even hover.
The day may come no father no mother.
You will have nobody to bother a brother....
Laying dead, cold, can't speak...
Only hoping someone could be reached....
How can we judge or even measure our love.
As their soul flies like a dove; which one will it be heaven or hell...
Our roads are paved yet we're still enslaved.
Our minds could never erase.
What's real; what's fake, your having thoughts that can't be shaked.
The days are cold; nights even long your left listening to another sad song.
Hanging on those memories asking yourself what went wrong.
But its too late their gone.
Nothing happens that helps you forget...
You may even live with regret..
Copyright © Eboni Pennington | Year Posted 2011
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