That Part of Me (c) Angela H Penn 2013

Boomer-boy-girl-holding-hands-3

That Part of Me

 

Those songs lie neatly on the shelf,

Much like the pain I hide from myself,

 

We were wild and we were free,

Society was a mystery,

 

We were fearless and young,

Still knew how to have fun,

 

We envisioned a world better than we had known,

We claimed this new place as our own,

 

Then things became too intense,

Reality intervened at a great expense,

 

Now physically apart,

The strains of the heart,

 

Only accessible by phone calls and emails,

the exchange of music videos and fanciful tales,

 

And then everything ceased,

Only to find that you were deceased,

 

So I ask myself in a state of shock,

How do I live without my rock?

 

And who will NOW understand that part of me?

 

Although I mourn the loss of you, my dear sweet friend,

One day, we again will meet, for this is not the end,

 

Our mornings of laughter in which I did not sleep,

My jokes that made you laugh until you would weep,

 

The midnight jam sessions with you playing your bass and I singing by your side,

Your smile and glance that would feel me with pride,

 

I guess we both forsake the life we could have had but never made,

In my heart you will never ever fade,

 

My only wish that you must know

Is that I regret not being able to hold your hand and be there when you go.

 

But fate would not allow me to ease this ache.

that part of me is now at stake,

 

I leave you with this poem I wrote through hours of tears,

My heart will not forget those precious years.

 

And when my time comes to leave this plastic place,

Greet me at the garden of his good grace.

 

 

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