"The way you bite your pencil is still cute,
The way you hold yourself still exudes confidence,
The way your eyes light up when you're talking about what you love is and endlessly will be attractive,
Though your hairs were beautiful but I don't mind these short ones. All the little quirks that make you up are still the same as they were 45 yrs back." Said an old man to her wife on their anniversary who was suffering from cancer.
YOU ARE READING
Words Unspoken
PoetryThere is a community of the spirit. Join it, and feel the delight of walking in the noisy street, and being the noise. Drink all your passion, and be a disgrace. Close both eyes to see with the other eye. Open your hands, if you want to be...
