Carrying it to the Grave

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
My grandparents never knew my uncle died. This was written before my grandparents died.

Submitted: September 04, 2012

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Submitted: September 04, 2012

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Some will never know your fate.

Some will never ask,

and I will never tell,

to prevent their hearts from stopping.

 

I tell them each year,

with an empty smile on my face;

 

You are fine,

I say.

Your life is going well,

You’re just too busy to call, to visit

 

‘I see.’ they say. They nod, they smile.

 Our empty smiles reflect.

 

They know something is wrong, that is quite clear,

they simply don’t want to ask; they don’t want to know.

 

Perhaps deep inside,

They know the empty feeling in their hearts

 

Is because you are gone.

 

They don’t want confirmation.

I don’t want to confirm.

 

For then, three will be gone,

my empty heart as well.


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