Sitting in a waiting room
three years ago, time gone so fast
just like you.
Believe in love, Blaine,
Believe in a better place.
Flowers took root outdoors,
while you slowly turned blind,
never seeing what a beautiful spring was blooming
you left, the curtain drawn, your final bow.
Your face is still in my mind,
now losing its sharp features,
a mask of what you once were.
So vibrant and ready to grow
like spring itself
which now looks dimmer,
not quite so hopeful as it was
before you were gone.