A Sonnet for a Lost Love
Oh my love, she was perfect.
Curly red hair that shone like flame.
Green eyes that looked quite glassy
the last time she called my name.
Death chooses no favorites.
Death chooses no friends.
Death only picks who's existence to end.
My love, dear lord, she was just 17.
I'll never forget those bright eyes
My favorite green.
A green that was clouded
when she swung from that tree.
A sight beheld by none other than me.
It hurts to remember,
to remember my love
she was so troubled inside
my mourning dove.
Why didn't you tell me your father was livid?
I know I'm no prince, I have but a penny,
But I loved you oh so deeply, my annie.
This was the wrong way.
You should've told me.
I'm good at persuasion.
I'm a salesman, you see.
Every night I'm alone- I miss your bright hair
I think of what happened- I should've been there.
God above, where was I
When you tied that cursed rope-
I could've saved you.
Revived your hope.
But you jumped oh so certain, my soon-to-be bride,
All I could do when I found you was cry.
I screamed at the sky-
"Why her? Why my girl?"
"Why did she do this? Did I do something wrong?"
You should've heard me, Annie, it was quite a whirl.
I'm surprised no one here has deemed me insane,
Let alone pare me up with some other dame.
I'll never forget how you looked, my angel.
Neck broken, hair dangling, not you.
I wish I could forget that picture, my love.
It comes to my mind every fifteenth of June.
I miss you, my love. I miss you, my lady.
I still have the list of the names for our baby.
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