Memories come,

memos written,

the childhood pain

the dirty kitchen,

The overgrowed yard,

where standing alone

And nobody ' s answering

The man has died some

yeard ago now,

it looked like a rag,

out of life.

The woman thought

she was not alone,

but died a yard away

on almost the same floor.

It was the start of a new dimension,

At daybreak or nightfall,

The house is empty now,

Nobody's waiting for

anyone I am

I am not waiting for

anyoneof them.