No new words from you,
No photos to paint blue,
Your pictures will grow stale,
Your memories slowly pale.
No wonky smiles to throw
At me across the road,
No hints about your muse,
No teasing can amuse.
Your voice on the phone
And how it always shone,
No promises now to keep,
No tears left to weep.
No place I can call,
To hear your laughter fall,
No bridges left to break
No quarrels left to fake.
No sounds remain to quiet,
No secrets now to hide,
No paper boats to sail
No words left to fail.
To Kushal and Rehab. Friends I lost in less than a week to death. As usual.
