The Pillow Next To Mine Poem by Lora Colon

The pillow I sleep upon each night
Seems to be in a state of distress,
All because the pillow next to mine
Yearns for the head it used to caress

Each dawn my pillow is wet with tears,
A mystery I'm loath to explain;
Imagine, a pillow shedding tears.......
Clearly, from the realm of the arcane!

But I've heard whispers deep in the night,
When the pillows believe I'm asleep;
Softly I hear them call out his name,
And after a while they start to weep

Then morning comes with a tarnished joy,
Rising with the sun are pangs of woe;
This dampness on my cheek just confirms
My fears that the pillows miss him so

How am I to comfort their sorrows,
When my own despair I cannot numb?
Yet, the pillows must be told the truth -
But when I speak, all the wrong words come

I tell the pillows there'll come a time
Their feathers will caress someone new;
Although my heart scoffs at such a lie,
I must tell it....... or I might cry too