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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