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An Empty Chair on Sunday
Countless tests and exams
To find a tumor
Leeching off his life
A parasite
But I knew
Everything would be alright
We would go back to the careless
Warm summers spent wandering
Through the tree covered flats
And the tamed fields of farm country
Amidst the blinking lights of fireflies
Hovering about our heads
Listening to an orchestra of crickets
Under the stars
Body decaying day by day
Strength fading
A ghost of his former self
Unrecognizable
But I knew
But it was just a phase
Everything would be alright
Someday soon we would be back
To running around lonely ash trees
Till it was time for Sunday dinner
And the family would gather
As we have for years
A horror of needles and bad tasting medicines,
A restless child trapped in a wheelchair
A drawn out death, a loosing fight
Hope dissolving
But he made sure we knew
He would be alright
The only testament to the battle
A stone in the ground
And the rest of us
An empty chair on Sunday
And a hole in the heart
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