I'm not ready to say goodbye,
even though I know it's coming.
I'm not ready to say goodbye,
and be left with only memories.
I keep trying to prepare,
I don't want to break down.
I want to be strong,
I don't want to show how much it'll affect me.
Every loss is different,
and I'll never truly prepare,
when the time comes,
I won't be able to stop the tears.
I'm not ready to say goodbye,
even though I know it's coming.
I'm not ready to say goodbye,
and be left with only memories.
I know the impact you've made,
I know the people you've changed,
I know how large the funeral will be,
and I know I'll have to speak.
It'll be simple and quick,
but how do I stay composed,
reading the poem you chose,
without grief getting me sick?
Because I'm not ready to say goodbye,
but I know it's coming.
I'm not ready to say goodbye,
and be left with only memories.
We may not see you again,
but somehow you'll still be here
in those memories you used to tell me.
We'll never really have to say goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
Seashell in The Sand
PoetryThis is a collection of poetry about my life. The things I go through and the things I witness. Some are happy, some are sad, and some won't make any sense. Sometimes life doesn't either.
