The way you seem to exist
Freely in my mind
Thoughts of you on display
Like art in a exhibit
Memories enclosed in glass cases
It’s hard for me not to revisit
How have they been kept in such pristine condition
Who is this person
That’s marked each piece with cursive
Below a personal description
A summary of the memory
It’s the re reading that’s stopping these feelings from fleeting
I must look away
So that with each passing day
I get further away

When did you stop singing
Where's the music that I knew
I hear echoes of a melody
You sang when we were new

Where's the smile and the laughter
That filled the empty room
Is it gone forever, tell me
When will your flowers bloom

It slipped away unnoticed
In the middle of the night
I should have held on tighter
Should have kept you in my sight

If I told you that I love you
Would it spark your inner flame
Or are you gone forever
Fearing I hold all the blame

Played catch with me once
(as in "one" time)
Never had a conversation with me.
Never said he was proud of me.
Never asked me how I felt.
Had three letters typed
by his secretary sent to me
in the seven years I was at
Andover and Columbia;
the word "love" was typed.
Never  said he loved me.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS