Ophelia
My sister went with the Angels,
Years before I was born,
Her photo, always displayed,
Was a normal part of our home.
The pain from her early departure,
Came out slowly, a bit at a time,
And yet, not fully understood,
By the mind of the child I was.
Her photo, now in my home,
Is displayed just as before,
And I still wonder why and why not,
Not understanding, yet unable to ignore.
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It is almost the first of January, when the gates of time open and allow us to enter the new year. We go undaunted with our doubts and hopes, to start another chapter of our lives and to face the unknown future without fear or regrets.
When I think of my father,
Who passed on long ago,
I strive to remember
The tone of his voice,
its cadence, its timbre,
To connect with his soul.
But it pains me to say
That his voice is no more,
No more in my mind.
So, I wonder anew,
Will I ever remember?
Or will the sadness ensue?
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Your life was short
And you left me early
One day you were here
The next day you were gone
And life was never the same
Perhaps you thought
I would not remember
Lessons you taught me
About right and wrong
About love and respect
But I remember them all
Like it happened yesterday
They helped define me
And will be with me always
In my heart, right next to you
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