‘Why do I still miss you?’
Time had washed away
The stream, eternally written on memories.
Time had drowned
The stone, etched with unsung old songs.
Time had finished
The story, long overdue, but still unsaid.
Time had plucked the strings of a broken guitar
Taken parts and particles along
With that sad symphony.
Time had carried away the debris
Of the days, months and years of
But, after all these years,
Even after we had said our final farewell,
A half-done goodbye, hastily added at the end,
Why do I still miss you?
Why do I still miss YOU?