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His Room MAG
I follow his scent into his room,
Empty without his cherishedpossessions.
A shirt crumpled in the corner,
A symbol of hisforgetfulness,
My heart would not admit that he was gone.
I smoothedthe linens on his bed,
Smiled at a discarded poster.
Curled along theedges,
Memories of his younger self.
My heart would not accept.
Ilooked from the window to see what he saw,
The sun chasing the sleep from hishead.
Green leaves swaying in the gentle breezes,
I think he might haveseen freedom.
My heart could only see the love.
I searched through thedrawers,
Under the bed and inside the closet,
Frantically trying to findsome small piece of him.
I couldn't find what wasn't lost,
But had simplygone away.
My heart was terrified that I had lost myself.
I neededsomething tangible to hold,
My legs led me to the corner.
Some comfort fromhis warm soft scent,
I crushed the shirt to my face and wept.
My heart notonly broke, but bereft.
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