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Jun 2017
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
Michael Hill
Written by
Michael Hill  Powell river
(Powell river)   
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