December 12th 2005 1:29 pm
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IF I GROW FRAIL
If it should be that I grow frail and weak
and pain does keep me from my sleep,
then will you do what must be done
for this-the last battle-can't be won.
You will be sad; I understand
but don't let grief then stay your hand.
For on this day, more than the rest
your love and friendship must stand the test.
We have had so many happy years;
you wouldn't want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please let me go.
Take me to where my needs they'll tend,
only, stay with me until the end.
And hold me firm and speak to me
until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you will agree
it is a kindness you do for me.
Although my tail its last has waved,
from pain and suffering I have been saved.
Don't grieve that it must now be you
who has to decide this thing to do.
We've been so close-we two-these years,
don't let your heart hold any tears.
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