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On the day I die

I hope this letter will reach you

And I can finally say

What I’ve always wanted to.

On the day I die

It’ll be waiting on the doorstep

To greet you early in the morning.

A collection of my final words.

When I started writing this

I thought it would be a set of questions

That I never had the guts to ask.

Ones I had let pass.

I thought I’d ask “how are you?”

“Did you miss me ?”

“Do you remember who I am

Do you remember those memories?”

I thought I’d ask about old accusations

“How could you leave me then?”

“Why did you choose something over me?”

“Yet you didn’t say no clearly”

But looking at it now

The smell of drying ink that surrounds me

Tells me the reality of what

I always wanted to say

It wasn’t anything special

So now I wonder why I never said it

I wonder why I feared

What would happen if you read it

But on the day I die

And the letter finally reaches true

I wish you’d smile as you read

The softly scribbled I love you

2-3-19

S.G

A piece of original poetry | On The Day I Die

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