Today

Today is not the day.
Today is not the day,
but it is.

In a matter of hours I’ll be looking at her,
laying in her brand new bed.
It’s not as big as the one in her room,
but I was told that she looks like she’s sleeping.

I will try my best to keep it together
since she’ll be looking down,
but I can’t guarantee that my eyes or heart
will agree with my truest of intentions.

Today is not the day
that I view her for the last time.
It can’t be another encounter where
I talk but silence says something in return.

Today is not the day.
Today is not the day.
She isn’t really gone.

Poet: Stefanie Parrott
September 4, 2016

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