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The Grudge
The last time I saw you,
I knew it was goodbye.
Too afraid to willingly see you,
To stare at death’s slow spreading poison
They had to force me.
You couldn’t understand,
Couldn’t tell me all the things I wanted to hear,
And I couldn’t look at you during our farewells to your deaf ears
In an attempt to fool myself I said ‘See you soon’
Like we would just leave for a short while,
Instead of forever.
They continued to visit,
To sit beside you and prattle endlessly,
About things so normal and human they didn’t concern you.
And I was shunned for giving into my fears,
For allowing Death to chase me away.
We waited,
The pawns of a demented game
And ten months later,
I was sitting on the couch, thinking of us,
When the phone rang.
I knew it was you,
Some might call it a woman’s intuition,
Others call it a premonition.
But I knew.
He answered the phone,
Confused at first,
And then upset.
There was no denial.
We all knew.
They came to tell me,
But I was already crying.
It was my job to tell her,
I did.
That sick bastard kept me from your funeral,
And they all regarded me as a selfish brat,
Too scared to face you.
I never had the chance to properly say goodbye,
And for that I will never forgive myself.
You probably don’t hold it against me,
But they still do.
And it’s them I have to face every day.
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