EIGHT DAYS
Day eight. Young me bade you farewell last.
Day seven. Young me wore down blades of grass.
Day six. Young me stayed still as all else prance.
Day five. Young me stared as candle lights dance.
Day four. Young me saw old friends sob and laugh.
Day three. Young me noticed people dress rough.
Day two. Young me peered through glass as you lie.
Day one. Young me cried as I watched you die.
(A16.18)
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Day zero. Young me gazed at the solemn sky.
It seems like it will rain tomorrow.
Eight Days
Author
Bad Storm
no thought, head empty
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