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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #2038347
A true personal poem, based on a recent experience, to anyone grieving.
Dear Sam

The flower petals fall

Representing you

The wind sweeps gracefully

Through the flowered trees

I stand before you,

Eyes marble and head bowed,

and all is Calm.



Dear Sam

They say nothing is written

in stone

Yet your name is forever etched

on my Memory, on a monument.

You hang over my prayers,

A closed box of Secrets.



Dear Sam

I can see you again,

and I can see the cracks.

The back of your hand,

a tree growing blue green

Your fingers wrapped in vines,

Tangled and Struggling.

Your heart held in another palm,

Wrapped in thorns, hurting.



Dear Sam

I can tell what you felt

When you saw the ashen metal

You felt helpless, broken, amazed.

The metal felt terrifyingly...good.

You held the barrel of that gun

And you cracked, new.



Dear Sam

I know what you were thinking

That lonely, shattered night

You were thinking about how people

seemed to always see you how you were

Biologically and Physically

When they should have seen past that

To who you were

Mentally and Soulfully.



Dear Sam

It took a single silver bullet

To your mind, to your Soul,

To open our eyes

To your world.

It took the chill barrel of a gun

To show us

That SOMETHING IS WRONG.

Isn't there a better way?

...No?

Something is wrong,

Not with you, us.



© Copyright 2015 Erin Eddison (horrorfolk at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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