Never there.

It was always like that.

I never even met you.

But I never cared.

And why should I?

You never gave me the time of day.

Quite frankly, you didn't even know what I looked like or who I even was.

17 years later.

It's my birthday.

I get this email.

From you.

Now I'm thinking, "why bother?"

That thought turned into writing.

Why did you bother?

You never gave me the correct answer.

Soon that email gave me rage.

It's make me so resentful towards you.

I keep asking why.

Never gave me that answer.

Soon I thought, "why were you gone?"

You didn't even want me, but what makes now so important.

Even to your grave I won't even know your reason for that email.

I'll only know that you were gone.



Guide that inspired this poem: 


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