You

You always used to take my hand and pull me into place;

You always used to make me happy with just a smile on your face;

With your paintbrush you’d paint a world so very far from here;

But never did I think you’d leave before you took me there;

Now your seat at the table is empty;

And I realize how far they all are from me;

People I thought were my family;

We’re really just strangers related to me:

When you were here you’d ask to read my every poem;

But now that you’re gone I never even show them;

Every word I now write has never been read;

My paintings and ideas never leave my head;

Since you left I haven’t painted a single scape;

Now my only art involves a broken heart and tape;

If you hadn’t left maybe I would still draw;

Maybe if you were here my heart wouldn’t be raw;

But you’re not here and you’re not coming back;

My entire glass world shattered from just a crack;

A little crack you left when you died;

Leaving me wishing I had left by your side