Letting Go This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

January 27, 2010
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I remember when I still felt lonely,
When Mother died.
I remeber when I was the only,
Passionate divide,
Between two worlds,
Of the life and the death.
Between two feelings,
That have never left.
Once in a while, you start to pack,
Her old gold jewelry and child-hood knapsack.
But her quilt will stay on her bed at rest.
Almost as if she had never left.





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