So I keep thinking, he is going to bounce back, to get up and be stronger. I sigh, and as my lungs let go of air, so does he of life. He is tired, he is worn, he is grateful, he is so frail. I love him. I will let him go, soon. Not right now. Not today.
2/3/2021
Published by denise marsa
Denise Marsa, originally born in Trenton, New Jersey, has been writing and producing music for decades. She is an award winning singer/singer and producer. View all posts by denise marsa