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Jackie

Waking you tell me in a voice I no longer hear. He came. Opening the second bag you say. My brother is sick. You tell me its my birthday. April !st. Waiting by the front door and crying. He never comes. Hugging me tightly and telling me you love me. I leave. Sleeping peacefully the lid is closed. I cry. My Brother took a bag trick or treating for me when I was sick. He was found dead in 1985

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Poet Destroyer A

Date: 11/3/2013 12:00:00 AM

Patrick.:-) Congratulations on having your poem featured on the HOME PAGE.... always~ LINDA

Don Johnson

Date: 12/8/2011 4:15:00 PM

A silent voice not often heard, me tongue gets tied in search of a word, I wasn't here back on the third, some shiela hugged me thoughts are blurred, but the funerals friday... confusion reigns mate, well done...