Written on 8/27/2014, in remembrance of my father. I sat at his head stone, where not ask of his ashes lay. And I felt as if he were suffocated.
Sometimes the survivors of War have the hardest battle of all.
Again, just feelings expressed as poetic prose, my being enamored of young men.
(The last stanza rhymed accidentally)
Mort pour la , For the dead.
apprehension
We will remember them.
this is not mine this is my friends and she to scared scared to post it. :D
Written on the tenth anniversary.
