Empty Pages

Empty pages to a story
That may never have an end
I think of what to write amongst those few corner pages
And all I can think about is the past

When we use to sit upon the hill
Joke and laugh about for hours
And Cry and morn in our time of sorrow

The ideas we shared as our book grew
And how our ideas raged on till the sun rose up

And now that your gone
It seems like there no point
No use
When I look upon the old decaying cover now

All I feel is anger and hate
Sadden that your not here to finish it
It sicken me to even hold this book
To the point when I want to cast it down
To the deepest oceans...

But it all I have left of you
All we did, all we were
Is in this book... and I'll never let you go
Never...