G(r)ave

I often mistake gave for grave. 

A one letter difference,

A one motive difference. 

Because each gift I gained added another doubt to my uneased mind. 

You promised they were sincere,

But in the end,

Life isn't all about receiving

And I gave you everything. 

And when I die,

On my stone I'll leave an inscription of what you really 'gave'

In hopes that one day I'll learn not to accept death in the form of a gift.