it took three days to shake of the shock,
and another two, to realise you were gone,
walking with no purpose,
where the sun never shone.
no feelings were able to filter through,
now that you had gone,
staring at walls, at floors, at nothing,
where did it all go wrong.
death is not exclusive but it felt that way,
one second with me,
the next swept away,
up into the unknown,
an unfalimular home.
your hairs remain on your brush,
your exhaled smoke, on your coat,
your teeth sit on the sink,
smiling back at me.
your book, on the page you had last read,
everthing remained the same,
everything still there,
apart from you,
us.
our bed now sleeps just one,
in the misty mornings,
the sun finds only me,
one cup, for one tea,
one plate one fork,
one paper,
one life instead of two,
and yes i am wishing the days away,
so i can meet back up with you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem