Here in your room
I still see your face...
Under everything,
rocks, soil, worms and dead wasps...
The clouds refuse to clear, Refuse to budge.
It never changes; its always dark and dreary...
Short, green blades of grass my company and i sit...
The light wisps of the delicate air, warmth...
This is a grief poem, about someone who died in...
Daddy, do you hear me?
Im standing right here...
The burning my lips felt,
After your kiss...
There are no words to say when some one has past...
I'm sorry...
You are not always out of her life by choice,
Definitely not allowed to have a voice...
Sitting were your not
somewhere in the sky...
Manipulate the guilt because you know,
My weakest point, for your gain...
I mourn for the invaluable time lost,
The years I wish you could have been there...