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I Am Gonna Live Forever

by Walter Jones (Age: 72)
copyright 11-08-2005


Age Rating: 10 +

In shadows looking, I find the words I need to drink, come in early, stay late, do not think, I will cross the river, I will live forever, savior take me to the brink

Fingers play in the words of everyone I meet
someday I will sleep in her arms again before
my soul dies.

Come hear
boy what do you say
Love is gift
Come hear and play her

Have you heard
Angels fall into night
Love it calls you like a light
Soft her kiss on your skin

Warm are the dreams
that we live in today
I was the voice
Come hear and play

It was cold in the bar
Her voice was playing
out my life star
In the image of drunk

Come hear me dear
You know I am gone
Down every drink
I am almost home

Hold like me that glass
Kiss me like the wine warm
Take me in the darkness
I need your loving arms about me

She left me crying old songs
Joined me in another
as I cried county blues
She laughs and takes my hand

Dripping honey on down
We trip the scales
of her memories
long sold

Younger than the tremble
in my voice
She leads to bed
I take the love by chance

Engines roar
darkness surrounds me
alone with love
I am lost

Fingers play in the words of everyone I meet
someday I will sleep in her arms again before
my soul dies.


So come in the night of my memories
take the soul that lingers for you.
Hold the dreams of yesterday
keep them safe
As I wait for you

In shadows looking, I find the words I need to drink, come in early, stay late, do not think, I will cross the river, I will live forever, savior take me to the brink






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        09-17-2006     Tammy Frascona        

In the midst of sobbing, I also smiled. I could almost hear your heart break and sigh and skip a beat as mine did when reading this Walt.! I smiled because as long as you or someone you love is remembered they will never be forgotten or die! Great Write as usual Walter.

        09-12-2006     Alysyn Ayrica Bourque        

Walter, in the pain of loss and the emotional upheaval that ensues, thoughts are often incomplete or, at worst, conflicted in their portrayal of how we percieve our fortune. There are no words that will truly console those in mourning but those words which the mourner releases. The wind is a gentle hand which often supplicates our loss toward heaven and, in time, even the passing of days seem less a burden.

Well written.

        11-08-2005     Anthony Lane Stahlhut        

I tried something like this. After a breakup I found myself drinking her back into my life. Or at least the memory of her and the relationship. This story is much more sobering and seems to be about the loss of a loved one and the torture that the other must endure alone. All the while wishing God would come for them, so they could again be with the one they lost. I feel sad for the one that remains,but happy and jealous of the great love that was and is felt. Very nice write, Anthony



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