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UNTIL YOU WERE GONE
In this journey
of lifes secrets
the stain-glass
window cracked
dreams were
shattered.
I grasped for
your hand
but it kept
slipping away..
The winds of
life
kept howling
jerking at you
until you were
gone.
Maybe gone, but never from our memory, and this is what makes us write our poems, our beautiful remembrance of our love ones, friends,or even foes.. But in my poems, I write mostly of my love ones who "got away"...lol
this sounds like the loss of a loved one and the bitter sweet memories that may keep their memory alive-am I right?