Six Hours, Four Weeks

You're gone for good
It's hard to believe
Here one second
Gone,
The next.

Don't want to leave you
But how can I see you!
Knowing what use to be.

It's all a lie!
It has to be.
A dream,
a disgusting joke!

I remember your last words.
The ones I last read.
You were happy and bright,
A radiant spark of life.

"Chicago is the place"
You wrote down in the message,
"rather be at school
then go on this trip."

I told you good-bye
But how could I realize,
T'was the night,
Last night to speak with you.

Tell you the truth,
I knew you only little.
Met you that summer.
Six hours,
Four weeks,
To little lime to talk.

By the end I grew closer,
But now it's too late.
I walk these halls in your memory
And from then on I wait.

{Dedicated To Bryn Galliher}