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The house is a shrine to your memory. Each object I polish so carefully chosen, So lovingly purchased and placed with care. Every touch reminiscent of when you were there. Each picture a petrified moment of happiness. Frozen, hovering in the space of yesterday. Suspended with the echoing laughter, And the music of your soul - when we were whole. The slideshow in my mind on replay accompanied By the haunting soundtrack of our love. Piece by piece I collect our memories, and Turn off the camera in my mind as I close my eyes. Suddenly I cry again; remember our goodbye again. Each object brings a tear, every picture tells a story, so lovingly written and told with care. Every word reminiscent of when you were there.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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Date: 9/27/2017 9:14:00 AM
A deep personal account, well expressed Helen..
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Date: 9/19/2017 1:53:00 PM
Excellent, Helen Can feel the emptiness and sorrow. Well written!
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Date: 9/19/2017 5:46:00 AM
This is a wonderful write, Helen
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