Her persona is a remarkable phrase. Her smile makes me feel like glorious are my days. She used to secretly stare thinking I wouldn't notice. I'd smile to myself post this. Her hair falls across her face, she walks by me with an air of grace. Her beauty leaves me speechless sometimes and my mind out of place. My palm fits perfectly to hold her face. She closes her eyes with a smile, all I can do is kiss her forehead and hold her tight. Her bright radiance lights up her eyes and also my life. She was to wear my ring and be my wife. Perceptions change as the hands of time too. I think of the moments spent with her so true. Her name given to her as a child, remains on my lips all my life. Someone once told me to never care, never be hopeful, thinking she's always there. Never wonder when she will come back. That's a heap of crap. She won't come back and all you do is gloom. She swept you off your feet for years like dust to broom. You remain a memory and not her groom. I still ponder with anxiousness and care about things that render and linger in the past. If I see her again I wouldn't want her fingertips on my mask. For her tears I'm no longer permitted to catch, but my love for her is like a inhuman spirit on to a body which it's latched.
Written and composed by
Timothy Justin Rudolph Rodricks
