When one leaves
Whether by force, choice or death
Where does that love go
It is said love forms grief
To grieve is to have had love
If so, to love is knowing you may grieve
believing it is worth mourning in time
In this one can assume so in departure
Perhaps missing is now loving
As loving is knowing what you will miss
the purity in those moments
Is the one thing that can never leave
Whether one remembers a moment
Is almost futile
It exists as a piece in its own time line
In history it will live and stay
To my family and loved ones
Yes, when I said it
I did love you, still do in some way
- Turquoise
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Every Color Has Meaning [Poetry]
PoetryI have a tendency To seek out a pattern Whether behavior, objects or other I used to look at people And wonder what their color was if I could love them for who they portrayed I know what it is like to love An indigo, a plain crayon blue, a changing...
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