December the 8th will be the 6th year
Without you mum
&
It will be the first Christmas
Without you dad
& death
Is weird
Especially when you know
That they were ready to go
“If they were here...”
Yeah but they’re not
& They’d be suffering still
Perhaps more so now
& grief
Is bizarre
One minute you’re fine
And one minute you’ve
Been reminded of them
And you have to walk through
The high street
Wiping tears
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