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The scent I sensed,

‘Twas the scent I knew long ago;

It passed me by today,

And lead me back home;

I’ll tell you a story,

Briefly, with my heart out on my sleeve,

About two men in my life

who recently had to leave.

Until today, what I hadn’t seen –

was the energy they passed

down onto me.

The natural fragrance of their lonely hands,

The feeling of warmth

which my mind only now, sadly, understands.

I see just now, what this place used to be,

And what it is now – upon them leaving me.

Man would think, old souls deserve heaven and silence;

But no one could see,

the hell they leave behind once headed for those heavenly islands.

They leave riots, they leave depressions,

Greed and loneliness, the fury of suspicions;

But what they also leave –

are memories and stories untold;

The secrets solved, once the Sun burns out the cold.

Never, until today, did I know I’d remember them by their scent,

But it passed me by this very day, a little wave of nostalgic segment;

It was her, who wore his perfume,

And it was her who headed down the street in Spring;

I didn’t know where, and I didn’t know why –

But that little piece of him she never used to bring

..could be a cry and an only touchable memory.

I always thought, but couldn’t understand,

What it feels like -

losing someone who used to hold your hand.

Therefore I understood why she would wear his perfume

The one left on an abandoned shelf –

up on the wall, in their first floor room.

I remember the candles burning

And them calling their name, I remember everything,

but I still feel the same.

I see now how empty those rooms are,

How cold and lonely are their minds, No company, no extra plate,

Just a picture hanging, the picture to remind.

They were my grandfathers, too, not only husbands and fathers They were everything to a lot of people, sad story of long lost brothers.

She smelled like him,

She was once more with the one she lost,

Maybe that was the only way,

Letting fire burn out the frost.

Since it wasn’t the plan –

I guess she wanted to be with him

once again and again.

Photo by Katarina Kojadinović.

#creativewriting #poem #poetry

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