Now that I’m living on borrowed time,
Thoughts and feelings come to mind.
Of things I truly need to say,
Before I’m permanently taken away.
Mistakes I’ve made many or few,
Not intentional, to hurt or harm you.
Memories held at one time strong,
Sadly fading soon forgotten; gone.
Failings, mistakes many ’tis true’,
Never intended or directed at you.
Bonds held strong alas, sadly gone,
Exists now only in ballads or song.
Perfume once worn a intimate smell,
Indistinguishable unable to tell.
What I wore and how I dressed,
Eventually will vanish come to rest.
All that’s left for me to say,
In readiness for that fateful day.
Is closure before I end my days,
Grant me only this much I pray.
Breda Ware
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