Postcards From the Room Next Door
You were gone, though you had never left
on a long vacation, from yourself
they'd arrive in batches, every day
no return address, no greeting
Questions, feelings, hope was fleeting
then missing died, one lonely day
as did the heart that still lay beating
in the empty room next door
No warm goodbyes, or teary eyes
no last dance to an old, sad song
just picture postcards, curled and fading
fading, like our memories
Copyright © David Brown | Year Posted 2015
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