Sunday, October 11, 2009

Yet another poem

I spoke to him last night

He was weak and tired.

It made me feel better

Know that he was OK,

Yet it made me hurt more,

Knowing that he’s leaving.

I sit here and think,

Of all the things he told me,

And the pain keeps on coming,

Pushing against me.

I arch my back

Trying to get in a better position

Wanting the pain

In my chest to go away.

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