The silence spoke of my crimes- <br />only the perfectly polished clock made <br />noise, it was happy with its time. <br />After the 10th ciggarette the novelty <br />faded with the smoke clouds. <br />Everywhere I turned a little of her remained. <br />The arrangement of the tinned soup, <br />metal soldiers all in line, holding my attention. <br />The recent letters marked with the red of <br />the biro, -I could see her circling them. <br />Her features cold, but alive. <br />The garden being the only place she <br />refused to go, seemed ideal for a place <br />to spend alone. Even in death she remained.<br /><br />Not Long Left<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/so-this-is-what-has-become-of-us-part3/
