Long Gone

With a whistle through the trees
The glow from her eyes
A soft voice drifts in the breeze
Sense those who have died.

The spirit roams from dawn to dusk
Watching what she has left behind
Twelve years passed & still are crushed
Have not healed from the passing of time.

Morning sun does not bring joy but tears
Longing & desire cannot suffice
Her memory departed with the years
Losing her was the biggest sacrifice.

Hardly known for who she was
Never appreciated for what she did
Lacking for the cause
That we would soon, be morbid.