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Life After Tragedy
I sit in my room looking at photos all alone.
Inside my mind is all I call home.
Ever since you left, I sit and think of you.
This isn't what best friends are supposed to do.
This room seems empty, all low and sad.
Without your laughter--joyful and glad.
The bed, made up nice, is still, as if to die.
No longer ruffled by excited feet jumping high.
The pictures of us two, dusty and old.
Never again their stories be told.
Books and dolls line the shelves, staring at this abandoned space.
Yellow ribbons hug the trees "just in case".
Tragically by now, we know it would be too late.
But for you, as a friend, I'll always hope, pray, and wait.