6/5/11

For just a short moment that flashed in my mind,

I had a quick question, and thought you might know,

And for that brief instant, you still were alive,

Yet, with my next breath, I knew this was not so.

6/4/11

We opened the boxes and sifted and looked,

Through clothing, and magazines, pictures and books,

Possessions and papers spread out everywhere,

With all that you were, yet still you were not there.

6/3/11

What use can be a voice sung perfectly,

When there exists no heart that it may move?

What can the purpose of precision be,

If none appreciate the truth it proves?

Is something beautiful by it’s own worth,

Or through the apperception of a soul?

Machines shall never take our place on earth,

For none exists which love cannot behold.