The Ones We Love
How strange it is,
The things we do,
When our loved ones are lost and gone.
From death,
Or after utter heartbreak,
Our lives are changed and our worlds lost.
We catch ourselves gazing through lonely windows longer,
Waiting and daydreaming for them to appear
With eyes that make this house a home
Staring right back at us.
We search for their familiar faces in crowds of a hundred or more,
Full of strangers brushing and passing by,
Feeling a senseless hope we will catch their glance
Among the crowd of unknown expressions.
We jump at the ring of a phone,
Our hearts racing with hopeless confidence that it must be them
Coming back to life,
Or coming back home.
We long to sleep more, even deeper,
For in our unconscious minds is where they spend their days the most,
Where they are the most real.
Forever we miss the ones we love,
The ones we lost,
In these days they only dwell inside us,
Even long after they have left.
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