Her Gift to You
She used strands of her golden hair As thread, To sew the pieces of her heart Back together, Her flesh as a blanket, To keep him warm, And her bones As reinforcements, To keep the house From crumbling down. Yet, as he holds the remains Of her body, Dearly, Like an heirloom Her father passed down to him, He wonders, “Has she always been this small?” Poem by: Fin
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