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Eulogy: WorkShop #1
April 26, 2013
I remember how I was:
small and not an ocean.
And I too sweat drops of blood
in the Garden of Gethsemane
because i am not Kayne West.
But those papers call me
so my mother burned them and
my father- he threw out the ashes.
"This is not who you are."
Their words cut deep- a machete
to my heart.
And I cannot walk the boulevard
of steel-strong heart,and
i can't marry strength, i burned my wedding dress.
Those papers were my bones.
Those those papers are lost.
Lost, Lose, Last, Long Gone.
It was the last page to be burned.
© Olivia E., Alto, MI
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