Too Late

The sun starts to mellow down; the days are getting shorter,

Your favourite winter is coming, but you are not here.

All around I see the multitudes jostling everywhere,

They laugh, cry and breathe, oblivious that you are not here.

But would things be different if you had decided to stay?

Would I find more time for you or a kind word to say?

I know I would not…I would have been busy night and day.

My love for myself would have kept your thoughts at bay.

Now I look for you in the shadows and in the dark,

That's when my skeptical self mocks and calls me a quirk.

Then I look again carefully where the light is stark.

But all trace of life is gone forever without leaving a mark.

Some said that the soul is immortal and you are happy somewhere,

Some said that’s wrong and beyond death there’s nothing there.

I know only that the living role I knew as you has gotten over.

Your daughter I still am, but my father you are no longer.