When I'm sad, she comes to me, with a thousand smiles, she gives to me free. It's alright, It's alright, she says, take anything you want from me...
Death is an odd thing. Sometimes I feel like we should celebrate the passing of souls, and this life, because it harbors so much pain, yet we fear what we don't understand, and no one understands death yet.
Sometimes I look so forward to it, but as crazy as this life seems, sometimes It shows you an incredible light that overshadows even the deepest darkness, and you take a step back from the ledge.
Sorry to ramble, no one cares(maybe one person), but this one is about that elusive subject of death, about someone who died young, which is hard to understand, and the regrets(even as children) that we can harbor for not telling that person what you really thought about them. Time doesn't heal all wounds, it merely puts them farther back in your memory, so they don't hurt so openly anymore, but scar your soul. RIP Kathleen. We were only kids, but you were a sweet girl, and are still missed by someone, because of your innocence, and your grace.
Sometimes I wonder why the atrocities, and unfairness of life bother some more than others, but I recently met someone who's a lot like me in this way, and through her, I figured it out. Some people have more of God in them...she has the most I've ever seen, and I hope She is not too burdened, and gets all the wishes she's ever had in this life. M.
I look across the crowded room,
And wonder why the seeds don't bloom
Have all the children gone away,
On this lamenting, fateful day?
The teacher looks as though she'll cry,
And dew bespeckles every eye
Words, they fall as black as night
In reverence to her grievous flight
And as the teardrops cascade down
The sounds of silence storm the town
And green is but the hurt we see
In sorrow for our dream's debris
As memories of a youth well spent,
We'd write our names in wet cement
Now, as we sing in mournful tone,
He carves a date in ornate stone
We gathered at the signpost there,
A wisp of incense in her hair,
Then traveled down the cobbled path,
Of death's malicious aftermath
I'm sorry for the days we spent,
In childlike fits of detriment
I'm sorry for the shortened words,
That crushed a heart as mindless herds
I'm sorry that my final note,
The words that stuck within my throat,
Were not the ones I longed to say...
I worshipped you in every way
Please take me back to times of youth,
When we could only speak the truth
And let the children play anew,
So I can praise the grace of you.
The End(thank God!).
When one kind word meant more to me than all the love in paradise. - A.P.