Not really a Sunday,
like you would have thought,
like you would have been lead to believe,
but then again, that is the past,
and a piece of me goes “argh,” as they leave,
not a bad “argh,”
quite a good “argh,”
sometimes it is good to remember where you are from,
where we have been, together,
kind of,
and in the photos his face is a miracle to me,
I meet him once in my childhood, infant hood,
Ever present smile,
Hers is there too, her smile, but not today,
it's gone today
I wish I were there too to help her smile.
Maybe a reflection would show her the truth again,
The truth that was brutally taken from her,
so quickly, so slowly snatched,
it had better not be forever.
like you would have been lead to believe,
but then again, that is the past,
and a piece of me goes “argh,” as they leave,
not a bad “argh,”
quite a good “argh,”
sometimes it is good to remember where you are from,
where we have been, together,
kind of,
and in the photos his face is a miracle to me,
I meet him once in my childhood, infant hood,
Ever present smile,
Hers is there too, her smile, but not today,
it's gone today
I wish I were there too to help her smile.
Maybe a reflection would show her the truth again,
The truth that was brutally taken from her,
so quickly, so slowly snatched,
it had better not be forever.
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