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Tuesday, March 6, 2012

The Letter

You hand over the scroll in my hand

A piece of paper rolled and tied with a red string

You ask me to open it when you are gone

I don’t want you to leave me

Leave me with fond memories of yesterday

I look at the letter, the words are concealed inside

My eyes try to peep in and catch a few words

They fall, incessantly, as I pencil this down

I tell them not to, but they still do

O sister, since you are gone

The chair is empty; no one can fill that place and the one in my heart

As we look for you

But to our dismay, you are not there

What remain are the letter and your heartfelt encouraging words.

I miss you sister.

1 comment:

  1. what remains is the love we share. Things alwys come around and fall in place. These are testing times, and I am right here. We'll wade through. Lots of love to the best brother ever.

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