It's the Little Things
It's the little things
I miss
Shoes at the foot of the bed
Clumsily I'd trip
Right where you left them
There they stayed
Little things
Unnoticed day to day
Reading glasses to be moved
When I dust
Rare if ever
You picked them up
Newspapers everywhere
Never read them
Piled in corners there
No time or care
To pick one up now
A cross to bear
Sick with fever
Still upon my bed
Will you go get me...?
Oh yes, you can't, your dead
It's the little things
How you'd read to me
Your monotone so boring
I'm fast asleep
Take out the trash
Mow the yard
Massage my neck
Fix the car
Little things
I miss
Still echo in my heart
Identical eyes
His Daddy's son
Messy and loud
Genuine fun
Here he lays
Sick today
His snore
As violent as yours
Little things
I miss
Ones I never
Thought I would
Unexpected waterfalls
Emotions time withstood
No longer am I sore undone
Or keep vigil by silent dust
I must complete your unfinished task
A solitary one they trust
Do you miss
The dance of my words
An eternal lonely
Whimsical hurt
It's the little things
The day to day
Just for a moment
Your memory gave way
Replacing the smile
They need to see
Live the illusion
It's only a dream
Copyright © Sarai Virden | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment