Our last goodbye

A phrase from your poem draws me to write another
Another one amidst the many in your memory.
Our laughs and cries echo under this tree,
As the crickets share their memories with me.
Unable to speak without a voice,
A voice that would once resonate with yours.
My inner voice calls out to you
A plea to be who you used to be...
A boy who would understand and appreciate
A sensible one unperturbed by temptations.
Let me tempt you to hold my hands once more,
Under this special tree on our special bench,
Reliving the memories together
And then return to our own mundane lives.
But one thing would have changed.
Our last goodbye would have been completed.
Rendering us both free.