Margie's Poem

We use to sit in your living room, 

waiting for samantha to wake up,

watching old game shows.


Sometimes you'd tell a story,

Or I'd tell a joke,

you smiled no matter how bad it was.


You played a small part in my life,

Almost a secondary character,

but you left your impact the same.


I remember the smell of donuts,

On sunday mornings,

After late saturday nights.


I remember trips to london,

long but somehow too short,

With your silent presence in the front seat.


I remember your hair was thin,

a scraggly silver,

but strangly beautiful.


Everyone you met felt your heart,

Because it shined bright in a dark world,

That will always be rare.




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