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Not really a Goodbye.
We remember them in fragments,
On the breeze their laughter blows,
And it dances like a ghost,
in and out our windows.
Sometimes it dies down for a day,
Or we're forgetting them for weeks,
But then the leaves bend in their branches,
and their voice's echo speaks.
Some days the wind is just the wind,
Without a memory behind,
And we let ourselves exhale,
thinking they've slipped out of our minds,
Until the sunlight hits the water,
like it used to hit their eyes,
And we must realise that nothing ends,
Simply because they have said Goodbye.
© All Rights Reserved
#itsnevertoolate #goodbyes
On the breeze their laughter blows,
And it dances like a ghost,
in and out our windows.
Sometimes it dies down for a day,
Or we're forgetting them for weeks,
But then the leaves bend in their branches,
and their voice's echo speaks.
Some days the wind is just the wind,
Without a memory behind,
And we let ourselves exhale,
thinking they've slipped out of our minds,
Until the sunlight hits the water,
like it used to hit their eyes,
And we must realise that nothing ends,
Simply because they have said Goodbye.
© All Rights Reserved
#itsnevertoolate #goodbyes
