Gone

I still cry,
In my bed, there I lie.
I think about him,
Happy, but grim.
Our love was like leaves in the fall,
So bright, before they lose it all.
And every night, I dream.
He is there,
Or so it seems.
And when I wake,
I see, there is no smiling face to comfort me.
So here I lie,
All alone.
Much like him,
When he left home.