To Linnea

[pomes]

When they die, they are not gone -
I think of them, and they live on.
I call to mind their voice, or face,
Reminded by a song or place,
And they live on inside my head -
Still with me, though they are now dead.

Comments

[serene]

Yes.


When someone's gone, you call them dead
But they live on inside your head
It's not the same as when they're here
But memories can be so dear

You think of all the times you laughed
You look at all their photographs
You tell the stories they told you
You add more stories that are new

Your loved ones take those stories on
And some day, when you're dead and gone
They'll tell your stories and some of their own

You live within their hearts, and then
They pass your stories on again,
You're with them always, you are never gone

[sfred]

Both lovely; thank you.