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Rated: · Poetry · Death · #1268265
2 best friends, one leaves the other in a devistating car crash
    Watery Grave

                                  I fell asleep my face stained of tears
                                  In this soft comforting bed.
                                  The ice from your wounds has melted to water
                                  Let it flow along the floor,
                                  Let it flow like the blood,
                                  Let the sorrow flow from my eyes.

                                My hot guilty tears,
                                Roll down my face from my eyes
                                And land on the pillow of my bed.
                                As I cry for your loss of blood
                                I wonder why you died in the water
                                Why is it you not me strewn across the river floor.

                                That night still reflects in my eyes.
                                The color of your life’s blood,
                                Seeping through the water.
                              And then we were sent into hospital beds
                              As we were rushed across the floor,
                              Your parents choking back tears.

                              Your frozen casket on the mortuary floor.
                              Is it comfortable? Your final bed?
                              I study the lifeless you not crying any tears.
                              Transfixed by the stillness of your closed eyes.
                              But along the marble floor are puddles of water,
                              Produced by the people related to you by blood

                            As you were lowered into the floor
                            In your casket - your final bed-
                            As the sensation burned my eyes,
                            I let go of my tears,
                            I let them mingle in the river of water
                            Produced by the people related to you by blood.

                            I walk back across the frosty floor, never again to gaze in your
                          eyes. For you are asleep in you bed, your parents still crying
                          tears, and the water still mixing with your blood.
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