widow

On February 29, 2016
a poem by [brandy]

I sit in my rocking chair,
look up and see
you’re not there.

With every tear that streams
from my eye,
I remember
all the good times.

Times we had together,
wishing we had forever.

I didn’t think you’d be gone
this soon.
I swear I see your face
in the moon.

I reminisce as I look
through the window.
And hate what I’ve become,

A widow.

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