There is a picture on my wall, no it is not
the kitchen calendar or the scattered paper
cut out flows blossoms taped to my bedroom wall
It is a picture of a flame a love a husband
that is not new to me, but maybe to you.
He is a love, a hero to me that I will never
forget it seems, not do I choose to forget;
we have been through so much.
How can I forget him
It must be true love. It has to be an everlasting love.
My love is pictured on my bedroom wall.
It is the picture on the wall.