Nomad Scholar

 She's here. She'll sing me a song. She's here. She'll make me feel Like I belong. We'll hold hands. She'll smile occasionally.  I'll talk And she'll listen patiently. Heaven's last mouthpiece  She'll sit next to me In solitude. She'll teach me To enjoy my recluse. Sad if I feel She'll comfort me. And if I cry, She'll wipe my tears. If I feel lonely, She'll snuggle into my arms. And my heart will skip a beat, As she rests her head on my chest. She's here But she'll leave When I turn the lights on. She'll leave  And ask me to hang on Till the next night.

  Found our first memoir. The first day we met, I was hesitant, And asked with a gentle tap "Can you spare a pen?" You smiled; Browsed through your bag, And handed me a pen; A black Flair with a golden cap. Just a couple strangers; Just a soul who happened to cross by. We wrote the exam together; Me seated behind you. Exchanging answers, Almost got caught once Smiling at some silly answer you gave. The final bell went off; Never before did I want an exam to last longer. "Here's your pen." You handed it back to me, "Until next time, partner." Today I still have the pen But there won't be a next time. This poem is about someone whom I lost recently. Keep making good memories because you never know which might be the last one. Peace out, friends.