I'm a prisoner now of the things I held dear,
In the shattered dream of our fortieth year.
A dream that was taken as if smashed on a beach,
Or swept on a wave just out of my reach.
No more whispered phrases in the heat of night,
Or warmth in the ticking covering me tight.
This emptiness chilling the ache in my heart,
As if pierced by an arrow or poisoned tipped dart.
I live now each moment one day at a time,
Missing the life that used to be mine.
His arms they encircled holding me close,
As he whispered the words I longed to hear most.
Arm, and arm, we strolled by the sea,
Or sat in the shade of an old maple tree.
Each cherished moment a second in time,
Like the beat of his heart in that sweet love of mine.
The warmth of his body, a pleasure to me,
Like sunshine in summer, a love given free.
I live now each moment one day at a time,
Missing the life that used to be mine.
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