Poetry, Writing

Why.

The immensity of the thoughts beating down on my chest.
How could such ideas run through ones mind, in this universe.
each aspect of life seems so fragile now.

The leaves crumble into pieces
The concrete cracks, needing repair
dust billows from the open field
creating a haze that I have to look through

The same thought repeats over and over again in my head
-Why did he do it?

I can picture his face, but can’t imagine his voice.
If he had to do it over, I wonder if that’d be his choice.

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