A good morning once touched your sleeping brow,
A good night whispered soft ... look where we are now.
A good bye wrapped in gentle, final grace,
But still, the ache remained upon my face.
These "good" things, praised by lips and time and tongue,
Are polished words for song that go unsung.
What good is good if not your hand in mine
Now lost, as though love was a passing sign?
And all the happy things we used to share
Happy birthday, laughter in the air
You smiled and time stood still to watch you be
You were the gift, not wrapped, but given free
Happy Valentine ... a kiss too brief,
A fleeting pulse beneath a buried grief.
Happy Anniversary ... a date we kept
while all the truest memories slowly wept
And now I say, with half a heart and breath:
"I hope you're happy,"
I don't know bout me
For though I wish you joy beyond compare,
I'd still be happier if you were there
So take these good and happy things we knew
They were not false
But they are not as true
as all the almosts we were meant to be,
Had fate been kinder
to you,
and me.