A strange dream I had the other night.


Tell your children about me

I haven't done much good in my life. I know that.
Still I'll miss your face in the morning.
Even, that it's never been there.

And now, in this very moment I'm going to die.
Not because I've done something bad, or because somebody are after me. Neither because I'm suicidal or depressed.

In this life I've been childish, cared about my own needs, desired everything I couldn't get and let everything else pass without meaning.
Instead of seeing you smile in the light morning rain, I where walking the streets alone, waiting for the meaning of life. And you left me.

I'm not sad, glad or angry because of that. But I know, that this is something that I've done very wrong. I let you down.

I'm sorry, beloved, that I let you cry those late nights, when I said I'd call or visit you, and didn't. I'm sorry about everything I said I should do, and just let go off.

Now, in the moment of all-to-late I've seen where I've mistaken.


I'm sorry that I've never said this so you could hear it, but now I'll whisper; I love you, softly in the sand and leave it there for someone to hear.




(Tell your children about me, tell them what they shouldn't do)




Words by barbeina
Read 670 times
Written on 2006-08-12 at 23:35

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text