Sad Days
Some days I get sad,
because I miss him so,
he was my comforter,
he had that glow.
Anytime things here,
were gloomy, and dim,
my email was full,
of messages from him.
I know others feel this way to,
for they knew a friend,
a true friend,
we had in him.
I know he is watching,
and keeping up with us all,
as we write our poetry,
until we get our call.
Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2008
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