Remembering My Past
I step out onto the old deck, hearing the wood groan beneath my weight Frigid air blows past my face as I look at the forest I make my way down to the garden, past my father’s gravestone The fresh snow settles down on top of the roses placed there only this morning I remember the day he was taken from me Forced to his knees to take a bullet instead of me Guilt rises up inside of me For if it were not for me, he would be here to tend to the garden.
Eliana Campbell, Eighth Grade
31
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