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Suitcase

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I remember when I was five.
The big, black suitcase sat
Waiting patiently by the door
While the tall, large man stood,
Bent over, struggling
To break away the little, fragile arms
Wrapped tightly around his legs.
Begging the same man I once knew,
"Daddy, don't go."
Twelve years later, he's still gone,
Not bodily, but heart and mind.
Even now, he's not so tall
But he still stores
The big, black suitcase
In his closet, just in case.



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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

Nicole67 said...
Apr. 16, 2012 at 2:06 pm:
That just gave me goosebumps!! Although it is a sad poem it made me so happy to read because of your amazing writing skills and word choice. Keep writing! and please read and comment on my work. :)
 
LeilaniLives replied...
May 24 at 4:52 pm :
I just now checked my teenink account and found this beautiful response.  Thank you so much for your words!
 
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