Steps walk past me to go find a seat
A stabbing in my chest
Salt floods my mouth
Tightly pulled fingers
And air tries to get out
Glancing at death
Letting weakness consume me
I only realized when she was gone
What I wanted to be
A builder of history
A teller of time
A giver of kindness
A guide from crime
Soft hands rest on my shoulder
A weight on my chest heavy like a boulder
Faces smeared from rain
Weak hugs due to shame
I love you and miss you so much
I wanted to let you know it's my heart that you touched
Dedicated to: Martha p. Slatts (gran-gran)
No comments:
Post a Comment