The shirt
Norma jeanLast night I was going through a closet
When on a rack of dresses, I found a shirt he'd worn
When he held me in his arms for the very last time
A shirt I knew that he'd never wear again
As I took it from the rack
All my dreams came racing back
The faint perfume of sweet life filled the night
I could see his face again
He kissed my lips as then
And I almost felt his arms around me tight
Spoken:
A shirt that even the gods must envy
For it's arms once encircled a dream that only heaven can bring
Inside this shirt had beat the most wonderful heart in the whole wide world
And forever each thread shall remind me of him
I turned down a rolled up sleeve
And I could scarcely could believe
When I looked and saw a strand of my own hair
It was clinging like a vine
To the shirt he left behind
As if to let him know that I still care
I walked to the window sill
And my eyes began to fill
And I thought I heard the soft wind call his name
And the shirt across my arm
Was strangely soft and warm
As if I'd reached and held it to a flame
Spoken:
And there I stood hearing only the beat of my own aching heart
Lost in the dreams that might have been
And the shirt seemed as sorrowful as I
And just as empty, body and soul
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