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My Weeping Mirror

A quick glimpse before I go out the door, another busy day in store.

They smile as I wave goodbye, the small young girl begins to cry.

I ask the others why she feels so sad, discovering in a similar parting, she lost her dad.

Killed in traffic 10 years to this day, yet I never see his face, in this confined mirror space.

"He still roams the highway, not knowing he has died", the little girl proclaimed with a heavy sigh.

He refuses to cross over, scared of what is in store, the brilliant white light, concealed by a closed door.

"I can't help him unless he chooses to leave, the pain he feels, only he can relieve".

The others console her sorrow, they wish they could end her pain, forever separated, in these two different plains.

"Why are you hear", I ask, "In the reflection of this place"? Eyes of sorrow stare into my face.

"After his funeral, depression filled me, I took my own life, hung in the front yard's tree".

Tears filled my eyes, my heart just couldn't bare, the pain and grief of that little girl's stare.

ronin67

@ronin67

Started writing poetry officially in 1991, enjoy reading Edgar Allen Poe, reading and dissecting the Holy Bible, and listening to beautiful/inspiring people. Age has no bearing on creativity. Some of the most beautiful things come from those of much lesser age and life experiences. So listen to those young people!

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Comments & Feedback (2)

Double twist 👏👏 very well done 👍

Thank you sir.

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