Your photo frame is left on my shelf.
Your picture has a coffee stain upon it.
The crack in the glass is almost spreading.
I see the picture.
But its not you.
Your alive right?
I don't know because your fighting for our lives right?
You love us...your family with all your might?
You would hold us close if you were here.
(A month later)
Your photo frame has fallen.
Your picture is torn.
You can't hold us close even if you wanted to.
Your dead.
You've died.
But us? What about us?
I told you to not go.
I told you to never leave!
Why didn't you listen...to the words of plea.
We loved you.
But since your gone.
We have no one to love.
We will hold eachother close.
Me.
Your son.
And your new born.
How could you.
The night before.....we said our last words.
I didn't say I love you.
I said on the phone that you were a disgrace.
I'm sorry.
You were right.
(Right then and there. She killed herself and her children. It was a tragedy. Come back from iraq. We all love you.)
Your photo frame is left on my shelf. Your picture has a coffee
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·
Feb 5, 2008 9:56am
