TOSELLO, Mario

Mario Tosello 1962-2001
There is a room inside my mind; the door now often closed
It can be the time of year, or a question that is posed
That leads me to touch the handle and open up the door
To feel the rush of history rise up off the floor
Memories with vivid colours of times when you were mine
Envelope all my senses, but reality doesn’t align
The dreams, the goals, the hopes we had would never come to pass
But to revisit them is important, so inside I’ll go…alas
I resign myself to feel you, and all that you once were
I do this not just for myself; I do this mostly for her
The baby you had longed for is now a woman of 18
She looks like you, runs like you, and is made up of your beautiful genes
She needs to know your story, and so I have to visit the past
I have to go inside the room where I saw you last
As I absorb the mounting emotions, I’ll leave and close the door
Ready to share with her a story or two, or maybe even more
Until the next time I’m drawn to look up to the sky above
And whisper “we’re okay here”
It’s your love…
Catherine