I relate to this poem. My husband was murdered March 3, 2017. I am having a hard time pulling myself together. The senseless act of 2 young people that beat my husband then shot him. I lay awake at night wishing he was here, dreaming about the day they took his life. Wishing I could hold him and look into his beautiful blue eyes again.
I have always loved this poem. I once had it memorized. Wonderful subject and cadence.
I lost my identical twin sister Cindy. She was my best friend, my partner-in-crime, my ride. I find comfort knowing I'm not alone. Reading these poems just makes me realize that one day we will be together again. I just feel confused. l miss the connection we shared.
I just lost my mom 3 days ago! It is the hardest thing I've ever dealt with. I'm so lost and have so much hate for everyone right now! They say things get better and it gets longer. I don't think so; it's only getting harder for me. How do I go on? And being her only child I've had to do all the arrangements myself. So overwhelming. I don't wanna do them at all because then reality hits that it's really true.
You are amazing with words! I hope my daughter will always remember her magical times.
I love this author's writing style. She was able to describe a child's imagination while the little girl was dancing with her father. I could feel the magic. Thank you for a beautiful, touching, inspirational poem!
Anon, I know how you feel because my papa went to jail not so long ago. It killed me because I have been texting and calling him for the past few days until I called my grandma. She said he was in jail. I am only 11 years old, and I don't see him very much. Even before he went to jail we didn't really see each other. He went to jail because he was drinking and driving, and I hope you see your papa on your quinceanera.
It was an entirely new experience reading your poem, and my suggestion is to be yourself because the best of you is yourself, and 10 years from now you don't want to know how you ruined your life by thinking about makeup and concentrating in such useless things. You really would want to be proud of how you progressed in life with education and how you were yourself and enjoyed your life.
Hi - I'm 61 and have had to deal with depression off and on for 30 years. Like you, I have written many poems because I find they help to release feelings that sometimes cannot be explained to others. I related with your poem so much that I may put some of my own on this site. The more people talk and share about depression, the more others can accept that it is (unfortunately) quite common.
I think 'so many freckles past a hair' means a very short space/distance/time. Perhaps Erin Friedrichs could expand on this?
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