I'll never be as happy as before,
When memories are drifting ashore,
These things from the days of yore-
How i wish there could be more.
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My life has never been the same,
Since a knock from death's door came,
All i can feel is loneliness and shame,
My guilt I don't know how to tame.
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Never in a million years i would be prepared
In your death, all it would lead to is dread
It's never enough-everything we've shared,
I should've shown you more of how much I cared.
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July 20 2015
Note: my dad's birthday (if he were alive) is 5 days before this poem came to mind.
YOU ARE READING
R.I.P. (Radical. Immortal. Poetry.)
PoetryI live and I will die but my words soar high written in skies of paper, allowed me to live forever. - Snippets of my soul in a piece of paper. R.I.P. originally stands for "Rest in peace." Coincidentally, I find that peace upon writing poetry and p...