colours too dull and spammed with imperfection
Monday, May 2, 2011
YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. A LITTLE NOTE.
I teared when I read this:
My eye tears up,
I start to cry, As my father whispers,
his final goodbye.
My mom is holding me back, stroking my head,
as my father lays, on his deathbed.
I'm bawling by now, and everyone knows,
My love for my dad, clearly shows.
Illness is bad.
Death is worse.
It will happen to all of us.
It's a never ending curse.
My dad closes his eyes, and falls into heaven,
before I can count, up to eleven.
He is gone now, And I miss him so.
Why, oh why, did he have to go? ❤