Missing

"What is missing? the curious exclaim;  there before, it's not the same
There must be something missing, because it's lack is quietly hissing.
What is the missing thing? What is it whose absence fails to sing?
It's the thing that's missing now. It's now gone, but I wonder how.
When things are here, it's presence lacks a shed of tears,
but when the missing is totally gone, it's presence is for what we long.
The missing thing is different for all. It's the thing which once we saw.
It's what we loved and adored. It's what on once our attention poured.
Missing is the thing which once we had. It's what's now that makes us sad.
How can things gone be so missed? It's what's missing that once so blessed.
When it's present we notice not, but when it's gone it's what is sought!
When it's gone do not fret. It's never gone, but missing yet.
How can it be gone, but never lost? A thing whose pay was at so great a cost!
Have you found what it is that's gone? What once did sing that lovely song?
The thing that's missing has not a body. It never was proud nor was it haughty.
It could be good and it could be bad. It could be happy and could be sad.
The clues have now run their course. It has not mass nor has it force.
It's now time to reveal what is missed. What once did hug and often kissed!
It's our memories which are gone! It's what we remember when alone.
Time is a thief which betrays the best. It's bounty is reason and our zest!
It's memories which time steals, Memories now gone... once so real.