I'll carry this picture--for you, for me,
for each solemn member of the school symphony.
But what dwells behind that sole picture frame?
When was this taken?--Awaken, my shame.
I still see a shadow--your footsteps, grace
before scurrying along in a quickened pace
cutting the corner, and then down the hall,
out of sight before I really saw you at all.
I still see your shadow lagging behind
your dashed-off absence of life and mankind.
A thumbprint--proof that you once existed
somewhere before your death had persisted.
It's all I have--a worn picture of you,
or rather, what I have in remembrance of you,
and a streak of dark shadow across the hard floor
to show you once stood--but not anymore.