They say it takes
some time to heal
when losing love
the pain you feel
In biding time
you realise
it might just take
more thoughts apprised
To ask myself
what did I do
to let her down
without a clue
Sure, certian things
come into play
but don’t add up
to my dismay
To pick apart
the scattered clues
and tell myself
this was no ruse
I can’t keep track
of all of these
sadistic statistics
and frailties
But give it time
with what I know
and tell myself
just let her go
A severed limb
does not compare
to missing such
a love laid bare
So I begin
in taking stock
of mementoes
turn back the clock
I come across
things left behind
she could have used
but pay no mind
A pink hairband
or bobby pin
scattered about
the rooms they’re in
A lacy panty
stashed between
my matresses
when times are lean
Or come across
that Groucho nose
or just one leg
of a panty hose
I realise:
this treasure trove!
her green teapot
and old hotstove
Items that I
associate
to better times
it’s not too late
to try to change
my point of view
and see these things
as fresh, as new
As I reclaim
things left behind
the happy reminders
and peace of mind.
