The ghost of yesterday

The Ghost of Yesterday

The rain falls like tears, a mournful gray,

Mirroring the ache that will not go away.

I walk through rooms where laughter used to bloom,

Now haunted by silence, and the shadow of your tomb.

Everywhere I look, a memory appears,

A ghost of yesterday, whispering in my ears.

I clutch at moments, fragile and fleeting,

And pray for a solace my heart's not yet meeting.