I’m sorry I asked the question (a poem)

Goodnight, Trixie…

When I asked you not to die
I sealed your fate
only the timing
wasn’t up to me

You had your own schedule to keep
now I must go to sleep
knowing you won’t be here
in the morning

I’m sure the last word wasn’t mine
so how come I feel I spoke too soon?

What I thought would take minutes
took mere seconds
once the moment arrived

Even the stain
is temporary

I started seeing things
late last night
but I know you won’t be here
in the morning

(24 November 2018)


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