I am the sketch of your thought,
The ink of your heart,
The carrier of your words,
And the synopsis of your belief.
I am created
from the array of emotions never made public,
The phase never spoken,
The parallel thought that made up half the reality,
And the weirdos you call realization.
I am the companion during your swings,
The keeper to your memorable memento,
The safe to your tears,
And the backer to your smile
as you grow.
I am the one you rely on
to relieve you of all the burden and pain inflicted,
to guide you through times tough and demanding,
and to hear you when no one has ears anymore
for you’ve grown up a person now.
For time might’ve settled for a smaller pace,
The world knows by now and so do you.
It’s here, Yes it is.
I’d still put up a face brave and tough,
I’d be your last breathe,
They call it the final expression, the last words.
It’s been a while now since you’re gone.
People say you’re dead,
I refuse to believe so,
I know you’re still there, somewhere inside me,
Inside the compilation of your life- The Told and the Untold,
The page never seen, the side never considered.
I am a poem,
I am your poem,
The casket of your life,
And I live on, so do you.