Hawthorne Bridge

all my worries seemed to get up on me,
get up in my head,
taking all my strength,
made me wish that I was dead.

I couldn’t go outside because I didn’t leave my bed.
I watched a little television.
Played a little Madden.
And I couldn’t get my mind around the fact that he was gone.

He was still inside my memories.
Still inside my phone.
Left me a message that I just kept replaying,
listening and wondering,
and crying like a kid again.

Thoughts that I would never see him crept into my head,
right when I lit a candle on his grave, then reflected.
Talking to him, thanking him,
and wishing that he wasn’t dead.



About Lee Stone -leest1-

The world is changing: Stand for Something. Soporte Para Algo. Independent Poet/Artist. Portland, OR · http://facebook.com/sonstone
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