And the day comes, it comes every thirty days. I look at my calendar and I am reminded that you were taken far too soon. No matter how many tears I cry it doesn’t change anything. No matter how many sad poems I write nothing is different. No matter how much I try. We weren’t the closest but the tears are just as harsh. When will the warm august day stop playing over and over in my head. Why, isn’t enough I need to know. I need this answer. Is this what life is. Loss after loss or is there something brighter is there ever a rainbow. Because right know my glass is half empty, I want it to be half full again. But in a world so cold, dark and bitter, is there a chance, just the slightest chance that the sun will shine again. That the waves will come and take away the sorrows of the world.