30. Pride

The silhouette; I will not see again...
The shadow falls,
And her image becomes; less define.
Like Mona Lisa,
An awkward smile.
What thought went through their minds,
On their image capture?

It seems strange,
On the days go by.
Each day, taken for granted, one by one.
And suddenly, no more!
What fate decided the play,
To continue a storyline?
So heartbreaking and destructive,
And yet, simple, to correct.
So much for pride...

Opportunities are missed;
And it becomes easier to ignore,
Until one of us is no-more.

What regrets await;
And stories? Do tell...
The photographs are a consolation,
Or no consolation at all.
To grip, to touch,
And to share laughter
Is much more...