I sit, invisible…
hidden by the snowy hill tops
watching him as he quietly breathes,
He looks to the water,
he quietly whispers.
He does not remember,
he wants to remember.
I can tell what it is he is feeling…
I can tell what it is he wants…
I yearn to give him his answers
but I know he is best to be left,
hidden in the dark.
He nor I can change it
so why would I make him suffer over it?
We cannot fix this…
we cannot make it alright.
Why would I remind him,
remind him of what we had
when I am dead.
Todays best new poem was written by Taylor J. Surenkamp.
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