I wrote this shortly before Tom died. I knew he was fading away and our time was running short.

Dew on the grass,

It goes away,

Just like the past,

It cannot stay.

I wonder where,

The grass dew goes,

Into the air,

I suppose.

The cool morning air,

Wakes me up,

It’s like there’s no cares in the whole world.

Just looking at

That drop of dew,

Reminds me so much,

Of my time with you.

It’s fading away,

Into the air,

Soon to be gone,

It’s just not fair.


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