she was just a child  
at her momma'a side  
combing that coal black hair  
until it shined  
she asked momma what  
does it mean to love  
momma said it means to sacrifice  

poppa said you know  
it's just too late to cry  
he's dead and he  
never should've died  
it was a bullet in  
his head his momma cried  
it was bound to happen anyway  

all she ever wanted  
was to love him  
all he ever did  
was look her way  
now she cries out in  
the middle of the night  
lord, his dying  
must be some kind of mistake  

Written by faithmairee (Faith Elizabeth Brigham)
Author's Note
This poem is biographical in that I was that young girl who grew up and met a man who committed suicide.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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