The Missing Piece

May 17, 2012
By Fmarie BRONZE, Norwalk, Connecticut
Fmarie BRONZE, Norwalk, Connecticut
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Who are you to judge me, I know I'm not perfect and I DON'T claim to be. But before you start pointing fingers, make sure your own hands are clean.

The sixth train rolled past that day
We were expecting that you were going to get off each one
Even though the letter was in our hands, reality hadn’t set in just yet
It has been days and shock is still in place
The sun was burning big and bright
Warming our cold bodies that sat depending on your return
Night seemed to fall quickly as thoughts of you playing with our kids replayed
The bench had gone cold; warmth slowly became non-existent in the air
Our delicate hands that held the letter began to shake slightly
Whether it was from the cold or from shock starting to fade
Night creatures were out thriving
The last train had come and gone
That was minutes or hours ago?
We couldn’t tell
Still our small bodies not willing to move
Everything would be real if you didn’t come into sight
Hoping, pleading, wishing, begging you to return
Leaving finally came at the rising sun
Mamas, who were watching our kids, were probably worried
Walking toward home was long yet quick
Our minds ran crazy with thoughts from futures and pasts
Unsure on how to make things okay and right
We sat on the porch swing rocking back and forth
Our letters read and reread
As silent sobs consumed our bodies
Uncle Sam took you, the man we made our lives with

The author's comments:
This was inspired by the soldiers who go off to war and those who don't return home to their family. This is for all the wives and family members that have grieved for a soldiers death.

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