A poem to a loved one. death.

The last time I saw you, it felt like leaving home
That February morn everything was wrong,
Standing there with my hands in my pockets
Head hanging low,
I couldn’t raise a brow to say goodbye
No wish can fix this but I still wish I did now

When I replay memories of you its like were alone
When I dream of you its feals real, but then I reach a hand and your gone
I met you with a hello and spent as much time
But now that your gone I want you to know
You left me something special,
A never closed open hello

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