She has buried one that she loved
no other feels as she does.
One that she spent life with has died,
just left with the memories
which act as a filter and pain
wanting each moment again,
wishing life was like a good book
that she could turn the pages
that she could turn the pages back
to favourite memories.
The cold funeral is over
the guests go home to their lives
but she is left with half a life,
the other half is buried
and she is left to limp back home
to the empty house and loss,
and in each thing her lost love lives,
memories retain them there;
half a life is all she can share.