The pain is killing me, each day I miss you.
Your long brown hair,
earings,
and a face full of freckles.
I shared your presence for only 19 years,
as you were stolen from me by death.
The house in flames,
as it took you from me.
Now my heart burns with the vacancy you left.
An emptiness so large,
that it feels like it is going to obsolve me.
I look up to you everyday.
You were [are] my idol.
Strong, brave, nice, and intellegent.
You believed in me.
Trying ever so hard not to forget you
and the little things you did.
I know you are with me.
Guiding me and making sure I’m alright.
I just wish I could see you again,
not just in the picture on my desk.
Michelle Poet
February 16, 2001