November 30, 2010
By schung94 BRONZE, Saratoga, California
schung94 BRONZE, Saratoga, California
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Memories of us drift through me:
Kneading dough in the kitchen,
Surrounded by music and love,
Protecting me from a cruel world.
Toes wrapped in homemade socks,
We worked, exchanged old jokes,
Chattered about Wimbledon; but
Death slipped through our shield
And snatched you away from me.
Like threads in our special socks,
I unraveled, one string at a time
Until I picked up tangled threads
Of my life, turned on our old tunes,
And kept my ball of string close.

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This article has 1 comment.

on Aug. 16 2011 at 8:43 pm
FatesMistake13, Springerville, Arizona
0 articles 0 photos 157 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes." Oscar Wilde

"The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame."

this is so simple but really beautiful. Good job :)

If this is a real story i'm sorry for your loss.


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