someone
is at my door
so i open it
and
i open the
biggest wound
he could ever
make
two months
he was supposed to
come home
two months
he was supposed to
get married
i was
counting on
forever
now
i have nothing
they
couldn't find
the body that gives me
hope
they
tell me
to geton with my life
that kills me
but,
how do i know
sometimes
i still hear his
voice
he's
all i ever
think about
he
was the type
to make
your breath
catch
and my breath
still catches
when i think
about him
or even
what will
happen now
he gave them
his signature
and
they took
his life
i'm
barley hanging
on
it's wrong
they took
him
my life
my friend
and
other half
all i have
left
are memories
i have no
proof
i don't know
he's not coming
home
it's their fault
this is my finest
example
he gave an
inch
they took a
mile
this wasn't
supposed to happen
what now? ? ?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem