Missing Poem by Diem Enjee

They said you're gone, but you're still here
inside my heart and every tear
that dries up on my listless cheek
and kills me slowly every week.

The past is gold; the present, brass.
I tell myself that you have passed
without me, and I must move on.
I should move on; I can't move on.

Pathetically, I search for chances
of even catching fleeting glances.
I cling to hope that isn't there,
leading me into despair.

At night, I cannot find the will
to fight the thoughts that haunt me still.
Alone, I sit and think of you,
and all the things that won't come true.

Guilt and hollow hope remains;
they lead my thoughts with tattered reigns.
'Go to bed', they say tonight,
because my heart has lost its might.

Minutes pass, and I sit still,
feeling lonely; feeling ill.
I force myself to go to bed,
feeling tired; feeling dead.

But right before I go to sleep,
I glance down, and at my feet,
lies a picture of us all
that causes me to break and fall.

You're not gone; you're still right here,
inside my heart; in all my tears
that are falling to this day,
and nothing will take them away.