Written by Callum Featherstone
There’s a house missing,
on the road you paved,
in this bustling city,
that is my heart.
It was home to all our reminiscing,
on the misty cul-de-sac, I’d wave,
with knees, grazed, and, gritty,
as you smiled, like an arc.
The beloved bricks and mortar, that held
your house, and, our familial bonds,
together;
are, now, used, in the future homes,
of your children, and, grandchildren.
Those bricks, will be grouted, and meld,
with water, from, a familial pond,
forever;
so, impressions, you made, on your stones,
will, eternally, house your kin.
We miss you daily,
and, remember, mainly,
the way you helped; shape, build, and, bring cheer, to, our lives.
And, sometimes, maybe,
we cry, and, smile, bravely,
knowing, that we are your building blocks, and, in us, you, survive.
Text © poormansdreams
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What remained, was nothing physical we can’t take with us, but the values, the, morale, and, every life we’ve ever made a difference to, while we were, still, alive. Those are what will remain, long after we’d, gone.