Those Left Behind


United States

I reach for her, she is not there

I speak, she can not hear

I cry until I can no more

She does not shed a tear


I want so much to see her now

To see her bright green eyes

I long to see her painted lips

But every person dies


I think of her from time to time

Whenever rain does fall

I think of one that I once knew

Of one I can't recall


This poem is about: 
My family


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