Halfway through writing this poem I had to break off, so I saved it to a floppy disc under the temporary heading "Unfinished". When I did finish it and tried to think of a title, I realised it already had the best one, so "Unfinished" it is.
UNFINISHED
You should be full of sadness,
It's time for you to go.
But in your eyes there's gladness.
I wonder what you know?
I'm working out the answer;
It's written in your face.
I think you know you're going
To a very special place.
Parting will be sorrow
And tinged with much regret,
But mellowed by the knowledge
That you're not finished yet!
For you are making me believe
That this is not the end
But just part of the journey
To a new home round the bend
And though you won't be with us here
And we can't show we care,
Others who love you as much
Are waiting for you there.
And you'll soon make yourself at home
The way you always do
And when it's our turn you'll be there
And waiting for us, too.
I wondered why we're waiting,
But now no longer guess.
The angels had to let us know
Your forwarding address.