August 22, 2016
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The neighbor girl, Emma,
The bane of my existence,
The cause of my misery,
The object of my jealousy.

When I was six,
Father disappeared from home,
Leaving behind a child’s crushed hopes,
And a mother’s crushed heart.

Each day, I would run from my dark and oppressing home,
To the big weeping willow tree in the woods.
It was a brief respite from the memories,
And my miserable mother.

Then, two years later,
When life seemed to start working again,
They moved in,
Bringing her with them.

Emma’s family,
So serene, so calm, so
happy, when we
were not.

How could they be happy?
How could she be loved,
when all I had was an overworked mother, and
Despair in my heart?

The wonderful ways and workings of the world
Are wasted,
Upon the losers,
The lost, the forgotten.

My mother, who was once a religious person,
Chock-full of proverbs and sayings from the Holy Books,
But they’re all gone now.
Just another thing my father took with him.

My last prayer:
Dear God, please let us love and be happy, like them.
Please do not forget us, and help us find our way,
Like so many before us.
Don’t let me be wasted
By despair
               By hatred
                             By anger
                                         By jealousy.
Protect me.

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