Mysterious days
One day you will wake up,
and find I’m not laying down next to you.
You’ll look for me in every corner of your house,
in every bit of sand,
in every flower, in your garden,
but I’ll not be there.
You’ll reach out to the bees, the hummingbirds, the butterflies.
You’ll ask them, about my existence, but they’ll stay
there silent, listening to the details you tell them about me.
Days after you’ll think, I must a be dream,
and you’ll reach the point where you’ll forget me.
But then, my memories will fly inside your home with the breeze.
They’ll haunt you every time, you seek peace.
The whimpers will remind you, all the wounds you gave me.
Everyday will be suffering, your and mine,
The home we build will be nothing much but a haunted house.
Haunted by lovers who were never meant to be lovers.
.
……………………………………………………….
