Gordon Morrow
Lived in sorrow.
With wife dead at sixty-three
He couldn't live his life with glee.

Although he tried
To put the thought out of his mind,
He knew his wife had died
A new life, he had hoped to find.

While looking through the closet,
'Ol Gordon Morrow,
Found a forgotten locket
That paved his tomorrow.

The Old trinket,
Reminded him of an old feeling.
Instead of dwelling on her death
He now remembered her life

He smiled
And shed a tear.
To this day, Gordon Morrow
No longer, lived in sorrow.

Brill.
Never been able to write poetry, so it's a skill that never fails to impress. You've got a knack for it.

Thanks, although i have to say i think i'm better at writing stories. This was one of the first things my creative writing teacher had us work on and it is one of my better poems. I might put some more of my stuff on here later.