If I were to die then what would I leave,
Family and friends to mourn and to grieve,
A wife to cry upon my empty pillow,
A fatherless child, not a wife, but a widow.
I’m sure I would leave a small hole in their lives,
Like gin without tonic and cheese without chives,
A missing piece of their favourite puzzle,
A big empty bed with nobody to cuddle.
The memory of my crooked toothed smile,
A mosaic of pearly white chipped and cracked tile,
The light in my eyes extinguished forever,
And the way that our hands fit perfectly together.
When something goes wrong and I’m not there to blame,
You’ll find someone else but it won’t be the same,
But you’ll remember me fondly and sometimes you’ll chortle,
And in those brief moments you make me immortal.
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