Always present pain
A shrapnel in my heart
Yet I keep going
Pretending to be strong
Expecting a call
Dreaming a fantasy
I can see you smile
At everyone else
Smell of your hair
Vivid in my memory
Like hot black coffee
On a Sunday morning
Call it nonsense
Whatever you like
Alive is my love
Even after a year, after a century
Written on 9th May, 2002.