There’ll come a time when it must end

be it parting destinies, death

or quarrels over the toothpaste.

And tears will fall and hearts will break,

With a thousand ‘if onlys’

pointing accusing fingers.

Time then enough to feel the loss,

to mourn what was

and what perhaps should not have been.

So now lie still, enjoy the shapes

his body makes.

The present, at least, is yours.

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