I walk slowly along a familiar path,
To visit a girl I used to know.
Hands shoved in my pockets, there is no rush,
She'll wait for as long as it takes.

I sit in front of her gravestone,
And read the writing again.
I try to remember the girl I used to know,
Try to imagine her as she was alive.

Finally, I talk to this girl,
Sharing what's going on in my life.
I tell her stories, fears, and anything else,
Things I think my sister should know.

Later that night I'm in a different place,
Though its very much the same.
I sit beside another rock,
And stare at another name.

This woman was older when she was taken away,
Had a son she left alone.
She had taken me in when things got too tough,
Became very much a mother to me.

It hurt so much when both these people,
Were torn violently from my life.
Even years later, my scars still burn and bleed,
And my worst nightmares are simply my memories.
 
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