I read the news today Oh Boy!!
By repomen79
I held her story in my hand. And cried for now I understand, The sweaters on the warmest day, The marks that never went away. Oh I, who thought myself her friend, One on whom she could depend. To speak of friendships but a waste of breath, In the brutal light of her sad death. It grows hard to abide, that I never tried. To find the reason for the marks she'd hide. All of us knew, in an unspoken way, That her life at home was not okay. The age that was so much more than years, In eyes washed clean by unshed tears. Monster you have killed the rose, From wich the milk of kindness flows. And we who'll hear her never more, Who do we burn a candle for? Her, that she find lasting peace? Or us, that our guilt might soon cease? To those who'd be a womens friend. Don't leave her hurting and pretend. That you don't see her in her pain. Cause if you don't you love in vain. If you take her hand you take her heart. If you take her heart you take her part. We who left her to her fate, Have many years to contemplate. Her aweful lonliness as the beating starts, And the aweful beating of our sorrowing hearts.Theres nothing I can say about this. Written February 18th, 2002 © on Feb 18 2002 08:50 AM PST, Patric Patterson 18 • 0 • 1
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"I held her story in my hand...."