Alone

Alone

Everyday he sits alone,
the same rusty bench
in the same crisp golden park.
Through the Autumn trees,
the mild breeze whispers
softly to his ear,
her last gentle spoken words,
like an undying dream.
The fragrant flowers perfume
his senses and memories
float from the corner of his eye.

"I'll always be here beside you" she whispers,
"Touching your warm heart, protecting
your heavenly soul"

"You'll always be mine."

The wind creeps the trees again,
and silently his thoughts,
swirl and drift like
the light brown leaves,
deep and beyond his stolen heart.

Everyday, he sits,
Alone.