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by HBIC Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1819363
My worst nightmare.
She tugs at the black lace
covering her red eyes and
straightens her skirt as she sits.
She spins the ring on her finger
and clutches the dog tags in her hands.

Her father helps her up to the stage.
Shaking, she faces the crowd.
She takes a trembling breath
and looks at his family.

"Very few knew him as I did.
Heroes don't always wear capes.
Sometimes they wear camoflauge and carry guns.
He will always be mine."

She accepts the folded flag
as the last tangible item left of his memory
and braces herself for the shots.

One a at a time,
they tore holes through her heart and soul.
She could almost feel him
crying with her.
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