The wind carries away the dust, <br />and there is nothing more to see. <br /> <br />Once so proud, but now nothing more, <br />the back of you is lost. <br /> <br />The memory is all that remains, <br />and maybe it's for the best. <br /> <br />As we now walk past, the sound of you passes. <br />But the last echo of a tune is still there, <br />so without hesitation in my voice and without sorrow, <br />I once again open my mouth for the sad and the dead. <br /> <br />The tribute of you is once again on my mind, <br />and my mind screams. <br /> <br />But not for the dead, but for those left behind.<br /><br />Martin Holm Sjölin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/those-left/
