first lessons in loss

as if the days grow weary of me
they come and go so callously,
and there you live, oblivious of this,
that with you dwells my joy and bliss,
all the love and strength that i sought,
is born and buried with every thought,
that brings you back to memory,
when the moon comes down to sleep with me.

so come your thoughts in lonely hour,
and tell me of the deepest scar,
but oh! joy! i know its true,
the same moonlight does sleep with you..

17/7/00, my first sense of loss.....