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May 2015
There's this thing about the dead.
When your love one is gone,
When someone you love has passed away,
The DNR signed,
Plugs were taken out,
He layed Stiff,
Buried underground,
Deep beneath dirt,
Deep beneath earth,
You try to remember those moments with him,
Your first date,
Your first kiss on the elevator,
Flashbacks come and go,
And you smell his sweater that he likes,
You're missing him so bad,
Sometimes you cry out his name
when you're asleep,
The side of the bed is wearing unevenly,
Sometimes you feel his presence,
You know you'll survive this,
but, sometimes you just wish that he'll always be there,
to hold your hands,
when you're scared to face the world alone.
It's been a year,
and I'm still mesmerize when I look at you,
how you've move forward,
how you've move on,
so courageously,
so fearlessly,
so swiftly.
I know you're still learning how
to let go,
I can see it in your eyes.
Hang in there, dear heart.
To the persons whom I see all faith is gone, hang in there.
Tania Crocker
Written by
Tania Crocker  Australia
(Australia)   
330
   Brie
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