e only way out is through.









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David Robert Brooks  


When I am gone,
Please remember me;
as a heartfelt laugh, as a tenderness.
Hold fast to the image of me
when my soul was on fire;
the light of love shining through my eyes…
Remember me when I was singing and seemed to know my way.
Remember always when we were together and time stood still.
Remember most not what I did,
or who I was...
Oh please remember me for what I always desired to be...
A smile on the face of God.

With very special thanks to the poet, Mr. Brooks, a 55-year-old machinery mechanic who lives in the American midwest.

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