I knew the day would finally come when I would open my eyes from death and see my life no more. I remembered taking one last look before I walked out the door. I didn't listen to my heart nor did I pay attention to the warning signs. Now at the funeral, as I laid in my casket my poem called, "A Dying Love" is being read by the preacher. He reads:

Dying at the hands of another.

I was here on earth.

My life did matter.  Who were you to end my life?

I had dreams and a future, But you couldn't see it Nor did you care.

To you life wasn't fair, Since I chose not to be your wife.  

How dare you say That I took you through When all I had I gave.

For payment it cost my life.

If I were here today, The sad part about it I would still love you. On that note, the casket was closed and there I still laid cold and alone. Still nobody to call my own.