days end

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    days end

    its the time the hour has past the day that in this case we dont see it end we will sing and we will dance and in the end i dont know will we last the clock has sounded and the end is near i took that glass and drank som beer i sat down next to you as you were busy snorting more of the shoot. As we talked all those days i wonder how my days will end how is i am here and y it is you left me dear. You sat in my car and all you said was i think its time that this came to an end the i asked you y and then you said becues my dear i am dead. as i cry now and i drink dont think i cant see i see you here i see you there even when i lay in bed. i turn to and look your not there because you are dead you left me here all alone and now i get what i did worng it was my fult that you are gone even now i hear your song the last time you were here all i did was drink some beer and now this is it i end it all so we can fit the world wont know and wont care cus life gose on and that if it i have worked for life and fought for you and now all i say is i love you. why didnt i tell you when you were here. now your gone and now i fear to move on with my life and my joy. to then end of time i have loved even if the song is done i wont fight any more cus now im just way to sore i will go now and then we see how long is it till we meet. life is fun and is hard but baby it has its scars.

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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