My World Poem by Andrew Rose

I made a collection of things of yours
From the four corners of my room,
All thoughts concealed within my heart,
Bringing back memories with every glance…
The bear looks eagerly at me,
Wondering,
Unsure of where you are.

It looks as if there is just a small pile of you in my room,
But there is more than the objects you have in here,
Your hairs I used to brush off without a second glance,
They occupy my entire thoughts when the process is repeated now.

You had your own pillow,
That stays, for that is mine now,
Soft and unusual,
Not one I would have chosen,
Different, shall we say…
It is too hot to cuddle it now,
But I will savour its smell for colder days,
And lonelier nights.

The TV is off,
The windows are open just a little,
I believe that is how you last left my room,
Quiet and longing for the outside freedom.

The world outside my world of you.