In my dreams you'll stay.
In a house filled with boxes
of good memories.
But in the basement,
along with the furnace,
dust,
insects and webs,
lies the pain.
The haunting events
and words and such.
A poorly lit room
by the light of my own tears.
No truth lies there,
except the fact that you left.
And I am here alone.
Pondering, looking for all reasons why,
you sang with me
but couldn't sing hallelujah.
All those late nights,
all those days.
I never really had you.
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