M’lord, why torture me?
All I can see is his brown eyes
And white hair
Can you put a happier memory
Instead of watching him die
I can’t stand being in the house
For everything remain from our love
Just sit there
I can’t bring to give them away
As his ghost haunt my eyes
Thinking I see him on the couch
Lying there taking a nap
And at night, I can still feel his heat
That I reach out hoping he would be there
But all I feel is the comforter we shared
On those chilly night
Then, I start to weep
Knowing it’s my imagination
Running away from me
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A pristine,y sorrowful write, quite moving in its anguish.