There's nothing left of us;
I was left with only a photo
heart,
faded memories of old time portraying
you while you brush
golden hair like the sun, reflected in the mirror
of your big blue eyes as
the sea.
I feel faint echo of your name, your smile
top of the stairs, and I look inside
,
now
and I know I'll never stop
to look for emotion in his heart. And this poem
is nothing but a rose for you,
to remind me not to ever tell
"Farewell."
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