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The Pages I Fill
April 18, 2018
Pages on pages,
Letters and notes,
Telling you how I feel,
Even though it’s for naught.
You ignore every text,
Each message and call.
Why do I try?
I’ll only fail.
We may be related,
Buts it’s only by blood.
You’ve cut us all out,
One by one.
Once we were close,
So close it almost seems funny.
Once you were family,
Now you’re seemingly nothing.
Pages on pages,
Letters and notes,
All go up in flames.
They were all for naught.
© Michael H., Mildford, CT
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My brother and sister are eight and ten years older than me, so I was really young when they left for college. This stayed with me for a long time.