Poetry : Growing up with her was the best thing I could have ever asked for.

Growing up with her was the best thing I could have ever asked for.

She was always there for me, even if she couldn’t speak she was a great listener.

Never able to repeat your secrets, even if she could she wouldn’t have.


But as we grew older she grew weaker, beginning to deteriorate.

Soon she wouldn't walk, and as a result, she started losing weight.


She wouldn’t eat or drink, I knew she didn’t have much time left.

Though part of me prayed she would spring back to life.


Her last week I’d sit with her, staring into her gleaming eyes.

My heart teeming with distraught.


To keep from reprimanding oneself,

I’d keep reminding myself,

growing up with her was the best thing I could’ve ever asked for.


That night I sit in the room across, anxiously pacing,

Hoping that she would make it long enough to hear the day sing.


Though hearing her croak from down the hall,

 I choke, feeling the claws of distraught gripping my throat.


No matter how many times I shook her, screamed, or felt for any sign of a soul,

She would never wake.

Part of me knew she had gone.


I wrapped her delicately, treating her now cold form with the utmost care.

Making sure no hair is astray.

Begging her to tell me why she had gone away,

and as I stared into her glazed-over eyes I wept.


As I walked through the street, the sweet sunrise rose over us,

Crows caw and glide across power lines.

It reminded me of how lucky everyone was to have her in their lives.

And that growing up with her, was the best thing I could have ever asked for.



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