The Death of a Friend
I found you that day, standing alone and broken by the grave of your past, and you didn’t bother smiling. I understand your pain, the blazing heartache on your sleeve. It’s no one’s fault. The universe seems to work very closely with mystery. There’s no reason for you to keep your smile hidden, I know too many people who do that. Why do you want to hide yourself behind a grave?
I’d give you my hand if I knew you’d take it. I can’t wait forever; I can’t listen to your crying no more. It’s time for me to leave your side, and if the days do not change I’ll come to you. I can’t promise to paint over your old self. My paint is all gone. You were always the kind of person who listened to my words even though I never believed in them.
Everyone clings to those damaged tears; the wetness of such tears brings nothing. Don’t place any more flowers on the grave, leave the beauteous flowers in the dark, the dark is more alive than your soul. Is that such a sad thing? I suggest that you empty all the boxes, throw away the pictures, and clean out the closest and the attic. You’ll be able to live again.
I used to stand outside next to the shingled house, waiting for your tears to dry up. Death is an adventure; will you ever venture down the road alone? One day, when the sun shines brighter, I’ll follow down the road so you can take it easy.
2006-06-23
15:12:38
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11 answers
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asked by
vampire_12002
2
in
Arts & Humanities
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