Outside His Bedroom Door
by Lyndie Sorenson
In memory of her brother, Joey Sorenso

I look into his private world,
Outside his bedroom door.
A place where he once laughed and lived,
a place he lives no more.

The friends who came to visit,
the bed where he did seep...
tears begin to cloud my eyes,
I stand as I do weep.

The desk where he did his homework,
the clothes that he did wear,
his life that he was living
without a single care.

Some pictures that were special,
a girlfriend's secret note.
His television he did watch,
on the table, his remote.

His hats sit on a rack now,
his helmet from his bike...
the memories are painful.
A life I do not like.

His cologne no longer lingers
as it did once in our home.
Visions of him by my side
but I just stand alone.

His pillow and his blanket
still sit upon his bed.
Waiting for him to come home,
lie down and place his head.

How I long for him to be here
in the safety of his room.
Nothing to ever harm him.
Our lives could then resume.

I look into his private world
outside his bedroom door.
A place where he once laughed and lived.
A place he lives no more