My Other Me
To my other me this I write...
Known memories of lost, dried tears,
Softly grasping images in dew,
Slowly breathing the gone time's gold.
And in this house of gray, at the front porch I sat
With my warm cup of tea I watched,
A sinking yellow; fading orange to black,
Clashing time lapses of our hardest goodbye.
Two eyes closed and so did yours,
Oh how joy and agony called aloud,
To every bit of left strength;
The wrinkled old feet stand no more.
And to such dismay; tears could not be held,
When my heart rest, only then it came
No house is a home to a lone gray-haired romantic
For no shoes can walk the path...
Of my beloved other me
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