Of Those Who Were

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Walls–they tell of those who were
The visage, faded, once was clear
Oh where have you then disappeared?

Into the night? Across the sea?
Or do those jaded memories
Still haunt your halls, as they do me?

Foregone–the night so cleverly
With darkness swallows every tear
A soundless cry on soundless ears

But walls–they loath forgetfulness
And not as I do they so turn
Their stories are not fast unlearned

In somber unrelenting tones
A chorus of distress is sung
For spirits absent far too long

T’would be such bliss to quell their taunt
But as I seek I find you not
And feel at last I am forgot

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The Empty Chair

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It mocks me there–the empty chair
So calm, it sits
And acts as if
It hasn’t any care

It taunts me there–the empty chair
A quiet form
That once was warm
When you were sitting there

This wretched pair–the empty chair
And I, we sit
Like counterfeits
And each exchange a stare

It isn’t fair–the empty chair
I wish, I wish
For only this:
That you were sitting there