I think of my story
As what’s still ahead.
Where the past is about
How my soul has been fed.
Fed through tragedy
With which came Love.
Call it God’s grace.
It is a gift from above.
With loss
Enter comfort;
Support-from family and friends.
A new candle is lit,
Aa another one ends.
I was witness to murder,
Then suicide.
I was just seven
The day they died;
My mom and dad
On Mother’s Day.
Left-was-me, my-sister,
And-Jay.
Shocked and alone.
Tough to explain.
Numb and scared;
Covered pain.
But, time moves on,
And I now look back.
I’ve-learned-it’s-about what we have;
Not what we lack.
Though I lost my folks,
Love was there.
In time I knew
It wasn’t too much to bare.
We were adopted by family.
We made it together.
I’ll be served in the long run,
Having survived the weather.
And, I can give back now
Through lessons I’ve learned.
I walked through a fire.
I survived getting burned.
NOT FOR RANT 