The instrument you played so beautifully
Is getting dusty now from underuse;
The stage was set for you to conquer all,
But life and time, they flow, both free and loose
The room is empty now, and quiet falls,
Faint sounds of traffic outside, as it flows;
I’ll never hear the song you would have sung,
For what that sounds like, heaven only
Knows
Wistful, evocative, poem, very sad, talking about loss and bereavement I think. It’s 10 years since my mother died this year and I don’t know how I will mark the anniversary. As she was comatose and didn’t recognise people we decided we would let nature take its course and let her die. My mother and I had a very difficult relationship and what I really miss about her is the mother I never had. I don’t know if that fantasy of finding the perfect mother someday will ever go away. http://bit.ly/1ER5cLY
Absolutely beautiful.