A crisp white setting, pure as snow. Not small enough to be insignificant, not large enough to be imposing. A small hand drifts across, slowly and carefully at first, caressing the fibres of the setting and leaving a light trail in it’s wake.
There’s a dull hum nearby of varied voices and mysterious melodies, interchanging through channels. Cigarette smoke fills the air and is absorbed into the p...
Silently gazing at photos of the man I once loved,
He is with me.
Peaceful memories of what there once was
The pain, the gain
The tears, the fears
The laughter, the years
They fly, just like him… the apple of my eye
It’s better to have loved and lost, they say, and so
He will be with me, forever and always.
Standing at the grave of the woman I can’t let go.
She is far from me,
Taken far too soon...