How will you remember me when I’m gone?
Will you sit down and sing my song?
It’s broken it’s bruised, it’s tattered and used.
From when I was born to when I died.
Every moment that I was alive.
It fills my tattered tune.
Confused and sad my story cut short.
Leaving me cold and stiff on the floor.
3 comments
thats good stuff
Are you a musician or song writer?
I would sing it.
sadly no, I’m only here to give support and hold on to my thread of hope in my recovery.