Dec 2019
As tragic as loneliness can be,
I return to bygone times to see,
To the tiny image that put me at ease and relive the days of peace,
Where I imprison myself to describe when she is awake.
When winter comes her cheeks are like blossoms in a day of spring,
that beautifies her face as a feeling of the summer’s embrace,
And when the leaves fall then autumn would not be to blame.
If my world breaks in half, that all would mend is to see her last smile.
Forever I will be,
Cursed to open my eyes once more,
Though I am fine where you are,
On earth it began and where heaven it ends.
I return to bygone times to see,
To the tiny image that put me at ease and relive the days of peace,
Where I imprison myself to describe when she is awake.
When winter comes her cheeks are like blossoms in a day of spring,
that beautifies her face as a feeling of the summer’s embrace,
And when the leaves fall then autumn would not be to blame.
If my world breaks in half, that all would mend is to see her last smile.
Forever I will be,
Cursed to open my eyes once more,
Though I am fine where you are,
On earth it began and where heaven it ends.
I wrote this poem, because I have been helping an old man recently who has altzheimer in my neighbourhood. When you look at him, he looks like he's "confused", but when he starts to talk about his deceased wife, you know, as if he returns being himself and he litherally remembers everything; the street where they met, their childhood, the first kiss, their marriage
like.. this guy loved his wife so much even after death
I got a little bit inspired by his unbreakable devotion.
like.. this guy loved his wife so much even after death
I got a little bit inspired by his unbreakable devotion.
