It is a queer thing to miss
That which did never exist
To seek out that face, that form
In a crowd, when all alone
It is as the taste of ash in my mouth
The reminder
That I'm looking for something
which cannot be found
It is strange to remember
Memories once happy
Now seen without colour
Devoid of fervour or ardour
And wonder
Where did it all disappear
What was it that made me feel so
When did the doubt vanish
Why did I not pay heed
And if I had
Would I feel perhaps a little less silly
It is as being awakened from a dream
Rudely, and suddenly
And find the memories quickly vanishing
And leaving me wondering
What was it that made me so happy
I do not want to turn back
The clock, or indeed seek a different end
I just want to lose the habit
Of seeking you
