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Michael Hill
Poems
Jun 2017
Trista
Stranded left to wallow
In a storm destructive path
Trista Destiny my sister
I hope to see or hear your voice again
Trapped by self inflicted wounds
after being tossed aside
dripping life out of her body
hoping to undo this hurt
Waters stir silent
grass whistles
rain begins to spit
Trista lies lifeless soaking in wet among-st these daffodils
Winds pick up collecting debris
as it ***** her up with all
to this day she has never been found
even after the storm
Good by Trista Destiny
who could have ever broken your heart
everyone is praying and hoping
to hear your voice one day call out
#sad
#loss
#friends
#sister
#storm
#love
Written by
Michael Hill
Powell river
(Powell river)
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