one day we’ll all wake up alone we’ll hear those familiar sounds morning birds how the house seems to wake alongside us it’ll be then that our hearts sink and our eyes realize we’re in bed and truly alone
i was telling aunt bea
about
a friend
of mine
that works
in a nursing home
and
how she said
that
some elderly
are
so confused
that they talk
about
people who’ve died
as if
they’re still alive
aunt bea
took a deep breath
and
said
there are people
on the periphery
of
your life
who’ve passed on
that we say
i knew them
but
there are others
whose love is so implanted
in our hearts and souls
that they are
always
talked about as
i know
so and so
for you see
they are
still alive
a living memory
of
true love
you’ve become aware that what would have made you great always had to wait all your dreams had been consumed by those you believed you loved time has not waited for you
when will the ghosts arrive the ones that plague our memories lovers forgotten promises made but never meant words not spoken dreams abandoned for compromise oh how those ghosts seem to linger outside consciousness but breathe into each day as if about to speak but ne’re an audible word is heard just whispers how can this be is it what they call madness when one can no longer hear their own mind above the muddled whispers of their ghosts
Read Between the Minds 