Letter Of Questions
By BitterPill
And so I cry. Each and every night, bitter tears, pour from my eyes. If the God of Heaven, could answer this prayer. I would be so blessed to know, that you still love me, that you still care. Mother, Father, can you hear? Do you listen at night, while I shed these tears? Do you see me, while I speak with my friends? As I tell them of your horrible, tragic end. Do you feel it to, this pain deep inside? How I loathe to live, without you to abide. Gram and Papa, are doing fairly well. But in all honesty, my life is a living hell. I'm not allowed to speak of you, or utter a single word. I suppose that is why, I have so many questions. Even if they are absurd. Written October 14th, 2001 © on Oct 14 2001 03:23 PM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"And so I cry...."