This pen is perfect. This paper’s been in my pocket all month, just begging for ink. I guess providence allows. I was just thinking. Have I been true and told you when I’m gone, I’ll still be right by your side? Please don’t ask me how I know. Free from the ones who taught me to keep looking backwards. The beat of my heart, tells me someday I’ll be home. The pain will always want to show it’s face and I’ll be waiting. With open arms, it’s had its place with me all along. I wanted you to know, I’ll be ready when I go. And I cross my heart. Having you here at the same time on this earth has been my honor, dear