Summer Weeping

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On a hot summer day, I lay in the warm breezy grass, which is blowing in my face. I lay there looking up at the sky, thinking to myself, “Who's on earth and who's not on Earth?” As I'm looking up a tear starts to roll down my face. In that instant, I quickly wiped the tears away. But the tears kept coming back. I couldn’t wipe them away continuously. ”The people who are not earth are in a whole new place,” I think to myself, as I chuckle at the funny shaped clouds. ”If those people were here now, I would be so much happier.” Every time someone I know goes away from Earth, a part of me always leaves with them. It doesn't really hit when at their funeral, but when I ask to "go over their house,” it finally dawns on me that they’re dead. It’s something you don't want to really think. It’s the total truth. It’s hard to take the truth, when you think it’s not the truth. The more that person means to you, the more parts of you will go away from you as they take pieces with them away from Earth. The sun is beating on my face, drying up the tears. I just look up and say, "I thank God, and they’re in a better place.”





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