Gone

He was a musician, says the piano keys.
A guitar player too, adds the guitar strings.
He was an amazing singer, says the microphone in the shed.
A pure hearted cowboy, says the old, white cowboy hat.
His smile could turn your day around, says the dusty picture frame on the wall.
He always had a slight 5 o clock shadow that always tickled when he hugged you, says the razor on the bathroom sink.

He wasn't to classy to just open a can of beans and eat it cold if he had to, says the empty can on the counter.
He treated his dog like his best friend, says the leash hanging on the hook.
He was loved very much by his family
and friends, says the cards, still on display above the fire place.

But something happened to make it all disappear.

It was on August 5th 2001, says the old truck with the door bashed in.
He called loved ones before it happened, said the rear view mirror.
He couldn't come home that day, says the cat in the window.
Not any other day after that either, added the front door.
He looked so happy when he left too, whispered the trees.
He didnt know that was the last time his boots would leave the steps, creaked the porch.