The Poetry Kit MAGAZINE
CITN 11 - June 2002
by Nicola Harding
The shade which you long to see,
Just black and white
The eyes which you want to cry for,
In a forever stillness, imprinted on a sheet of paper,
The edges crumpled, faded from the winter sun.
His voice so discrete silenced from the changing times,
No longer echoes from the peeling walls.
His smile never there when you awake,
Existence now a chore.
The longing remains like a darkening hole,
Trying to bloke away the past
You gaze into the plaster ceiling,
And as curtains billow in the starry sky,
You kiss his sweet lips goodnight.