August 27, 2017
By C.H.Ild GOLD, Lapeer, Michigan
C.H.Ild GOLD, Lapeer, Michigan
18 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Looking down, I just
See a shell occupying
A decorative box.


My tears aren’t flowing,
As I stare into that box,
My cheeks are bone dry.


Why do I not cry?
Why am I not wailing in
Despair on the ground?


Is it because I
Know you are not in that box?
That it is empty?
That it is just a
Shadow of your former self?
It’s not really you?


Is that why I seem
Detached to myself? Is that
Why I do not cry?

The author's comments:

Dedicated to Donna Fay 

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