I grab the wrinkled edge of time
And pull off it's mask
Reaching in to grasp at all the little pieces of him that have been scattered by the wind
Pleading to give him back to me
"He could save you,"
I say to no one.
I shout but no one hears,
They look at us but close their ears
It's too late now
He's long gone
Reduced to the ashes of the cigarettes he used to burn
"He could've saved you," I say
But it's a little too late