In a world of Hate and Toil,
Only one thing is true...

Is it really poetry?
Or is it mere babbling...

You and I,
we've been sitting her, in this silence...

Balancing on something called hope
I can almost see the light ahead...

Wondering why you left so suddenly
Opening up the new pains now...

I watched as she departed from the room,
thinking I would see her again...

Young Lady, he's with the Lord now..
They told me, as I stood in the front pew...

I will not be weak,
I will carry my burdens with a back bone...

Why is there a tear on my face?
I don't feel a thing...

[[Last year, my dad died, and I went into severe...
I can feel the feelings again...

I'm not quite sure what just happened,
Moments before I started this poem...

We can finish each other's sentences
We went and colored our hair...