All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
The day you left...
The day you left I felt alone.
The day you left I wanted you home.
They told me only seconds before.
It was my job to go out and score.
I played that game all for you.
I played it with heart through and through.
As I walked through the door I watched my sister cry.
As our parents told her that grandma had died.
I wanted to cry but I had to set thee example.
Keep a firm lip and keep emotion trampled.
Later that night I was still awake.
Trying to get my heart to not ache.
In the next couple days was the visitation.
All that was felt was my families devestation.
The next day I carried my grandma to her grave.
Still keeping my emotion kept up as my slave.
Looking at my sister with a hollow face.
We all bowed our heads and started saying grace.
We went home and I listened as they started to fight.
I thought to myself ”Stop for one d*** night!”
I went to their bedroom and started to yell.
“Is this how you’ll act? YOU BOTH GO TO H***!”
I went to my room and held my sister as she cried.
She started asking why exactly grandma had died”
Again I felt hot tears build in my eyes.
Then thought to myself ”What big boy cries?”
I still hadn’t mourned when I went to school.
I was mean to my friends acting the fool.
This continued for the next two weeks.
Acting like my friends were a whole bunch of freaks.
Finally it all came out.
In what you know as a down pour no doubt.
When I was six was the last time I’d cried.
But that all changed after my grandma died…
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.