She is long gone

Her smiling face always fresh like morning

in the corridor, still I hear her voice singing

 In garden, I see her in flowers of tulips

 recalling the way she used to call me stupid 

Emotions erupting but i'm trying to swallow

and embracing her fluffy soft pillow 

whose core still secrets her scent 

lost in the memories that we spent 

now the doves are exhausted of mournful call 

but i'm still staring at pictures hanging on the wall 

she is long gone but i don't want to accept the fact

 because every single memory of her is still pure and intact