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Rated: E · Other · Other · #1737223
A personal poem about a friend that was murdered.
The answering machine was flashing red
four messages left behind
all just to say "She is not here"

Amidst the panic
we searched high and low
but we could not understand why
she was not home asleep in her bed

And now, the nausea

And now, the denial

Four messages left behind
while I slept peacefully, the unthinkable
oh God, the unfathomable
oh God, no

She is not here
and even worse
nothing to prove
she is really gone

So we gather here today
for her, releasing orange balloons
into the heavens
The piano plays in the nearby chapel
and I imagine today, she is here
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