More Than Just Her Name ~

He just won't let me drive anymore, he keeps his gas foot plastered to the floor.
I turn my head and gaze out longingly, as the cemeteries pass fast beside of me.

The headstones zip past at an alarming speed, and I try in vain to make them out, and read.
Once I stopped at every one I could find, and never once failed to find family of mine.

Now he has the wheel , and my choice has been taken away,

I sit there, all sad, and I can't just pout to get my way.

He has figured out my obsession and will no longer be a part,

for he knows that this genie bug has taken hold of my heart.

I feel the need to find them all and go to pay my respects,

but he thinks it is just the pictures that I want to try and collect.

I get a lump in my throat, looking down on those old stones,

and I wonder sometimes, if in this quest, I am really quite alone.

It is an addiction, just like all the rest, I want to find my story to tell.

I want to search them out and try to know them, and know them very well .

These people of mine lie in their graves, some so very close by.

I cannot just leave them, leave them there to quietly lie.

They are of me and I of them. a tiny cell of theirs within I carry.

I will still search and find them all, and among the headstones, I will lovingly tarry.

I may have 'her' dimple or maybe 'her' chin, I make look a bit the same,

But I will know her when we get to heaven, know more than just her name.