Sunday, April 13, 2025

Her Things Remain

 Her clothes still hang, neat and clean,
But she is gone, nowhere seen. 
 Her comb, her jewellery,still present. 
Her medicines sit, no more doses. 
Her chair and table are still here with her books, her sweaters untouched. 
I miss her voice, her warmth so much. 
I hold her things, press them near, breathe them in-her scent is here. 
For a moment, she feels so close,
And my heart breaks, because I know the harsh truth. 




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