Every song a sweet tribute
to lips gone looking elsewhere
for their sighs.

But how many songs
does he write for the present?

And why do we make the best muses
as soon as we leave?

Heaven knows he writes epics the moment we go
in, perhaps, compensation

for so many unwritten love songs
just left to the breeze.

Our affections, they hang in the air
and they wait for their toasts

to remembrance, to tears
and to love finally gone
unrequited.

06/11/2006

Author's Note: "And every word of every song that he sang was for you/ but in a flash, he was gone, it happen so soon/ what could you do?" Allanah Myles

Posted on 06/12/2006
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