Poems, Stories, And Unorganized Messes

Vanished

It hurts to think,
That one day,
The thing you say to them,
Will be the last thing they hear you do.
It's scary.
Scarier then the dark or heights or monsters under your bed.
It's scary because you know, with 100% certainty,
That they will leave you.
They'll be gone.
And they'll never come back.
You scream at them,
And get angry...
Frustrated...
But what if that's all they saw,
Before they vanished?
What if that "I hate you"
Was the final words that they heard?
You have to live with the inevitable truth that they're mortal.
And that they're only here for so long.
Counting down the years.
They might not see you get your degree.
Or get married.
Or have a child.
Or they might not hear you say "I love you" that final time.
God only chooses the most beautiful.
They truly are beautiful.
When you're in a garden,
You pick the prettiest flowers.
You scream at them, say you can't stand them, that they're not fair.
They may not be.
But they're the only parents you've got.
And once they're gone,
You have to live with the pain of them never coming back.