Sometimes, I wish I coudn't see
the you that's you, the me that's me,
for we are somehow much the same
when life plays its fickle game;
Where echoes sing a distant song
And pine for one who's lost and gone.
I would that joy should erase
all residue and lonely trace
of sadness born of bygone times,
and keep you now in loving climes...
for one you love through endless days
to cherish you in all your ways.
I like to think that the last two lines of this reply are true for you now. What a talented poet you truly are!