that day

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  • Sadness

    that day

    the phone rings my mom picks it up and says "hello," listens for a minute looks at me and drops her head low, "thankyou i'll tell him" click the phone falls to the floor, she looks at me "Rachel died last night" my tears begin to poor, she puts her arms around me and tells me it will be ok, she helps me up and walks me to my room, she shuts the door behind us i feel like i am in a tomb, full of pian, misury, anjd sarrow, mom looks at me and says "you dont have to go to school tomarow," nuthen mattered to me i felt hollow on the inside, i tryed to stop crying to keep a little bit of my pride, it did not matter how hard i tryed i wonted to die, i looked from the bed to the windowand stared at the night sky, all i saw was the memories of us together, spinnen eachother on the tire swing till we felt light as a feather, her yellen at me for smoken ciggarets, us at the pet store namen the soon to be pets, sitten on lake mishagan watchen the fireworks on the 4th of jully, didn't have the money for a birthday cake so we bought a big apple pie, us tuben down the hill at the park in the dead of winter, her helpen me at the fish docks with a splinter, us spenden countless hours at the library on the computers, her sowing me what a homepage is, we usto allways go to the YMCA, god i wish i never had to live through this day.

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    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

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

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