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.
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