To Late

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To Late

It was to late to say goodbye.
It was all so soon and a suprise,
My older sister is gone.
There's no way to describe the way I feel.
Some days I feel lost,
others I feel as if I were in a dream.
I wait in anticipation
for her to come through the door,
I try to stay strong
for those who are weak.
For those who consider just
giving up, who say,
"I can't do it anymore".
I do admit that before I go to bed,
I cry.
I cry and say that she's my sister
and that I have and  always
will love her.
Sometimes I just want to disappear,
other times I want to be held a long
period of time.

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Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

genkmartinez’s Poems (3)

Title Comments
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To Late 0
Everyday 0
A Poem For My Nephw Devin 1