Friday, 13 January 2012

There’s a whipping wind behind the moon
Lonely cries turn like rusty leaves
You face once so familiar has lost it’s sheen
I just can’t help but grieve your absence.

Dogs biting blood-white bone
Standing in an alley all alone-
You give me far more than I really know how to take
Grieving down the road-my absence is always at stake.

I’d change if only I knew how-(two dimes for a quarter is the goin’ rate)
But the key is lost, the door won’t budge an inch
A photo of you beside the kitchen sink.
Is your absence real or is it just me
That grieves & grieves this lifetime through?

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