ANNIE DOESN'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE

Here I stand in front of the old house with the broken down door

A twinge of sadness fills the air as a long ago memory whispers "Annie doesn't live here anymore"

I see the oak tree in the yard out back by the flower garden where the birds used to sing

And try to remember how many times Annie and I rode that old tire swing

The tree is almost dead now and the tire lies on the ground

The silence is deafening as I make my way around

To the little creek we used to swim in and the crayfish abound

Where days were hours and the sun never went down

The baby fawn we fed by dusk's closing light

And the millions of stars we counted on a moonless night

The time she ran away and I thought she would never come back home

But she did and she promised me never again would she roam

We climbed every rock and hill until winter's fall

But in a faraway land things were amiss and I answered my country's call

Now after years of Hell I stand again under the old oak tree

And think once again of Annie and me

As I walk slowly away it all seems so sad

For you see, Annie has died, she was the love I never had

A POEM BY WINSTON W WALLACE