Delicate are the Roses

Delicate are the roses, which lie on her grave.
Heartbroken and lonely, it is hard to be brave.

She was my world, the very air I breath.
We'll be together again, this I believe.

No place can I look that she isn't there.
She's in all of my thoughts and in every prayer.

The blue skies above have turned to gray.
Only fondest memories survived that day.

My love for her will be a monument.
To the love we shared and to its extent.

The temptation is great to tell the world good-by.
But in dreams she will often ask me why.

Delicate are the roses, which lie on her grave.
Heartbroken and lonely please help me be brave.

© 1996 Wayne H. McLaughlin 9311050155-260

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