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An Empty SeatThe war is over, but not for my emotions.I sit at my dinner tableMourning the emptiness at my father's seatWhere he would eat, laugh, and talkI mourn the blank space where his plate used to sitWhere he used to set his silverwareI mourn the hugs he used to give me before bedAnd the "good mornings" he'd say to me every time I wokeI mourn smelling the stench he came home with after workProving he got his day's job done rightI mourn the games we used to play before bedAnd how he would always end up winning.I sit at the dinner table, in tearsHoping that one day, I'll see him thereSitting in his seat, engulfing his meatloafMy mother tries to calm meSometimes she even sits in his seat to fill the empty spaceBut it's not the same; it's simply not the same.I mourn the times we would all sit as a family and watch movies all nightEating caramel corn and drinking hot cocoa in our pajamasI mourn the times we went fishing at the lakeAlways getting congratulated on catching somet
Old PoemWhat is fake and what is reality?All of my feelings end up with despair.Now nothing is what I thought it would be.In the end, all of this is just not fair.I think of you, but all I feel is pain.I'm on a road and I cannot return.All of these thoughts are driving me insane.The pain I feel is causing my feelings to burn.Is there even a truth behind the lies?We care and love but was it even real?I can see our love in your gleaming eyes.The love we share is how I'll always feel.I'll always love you more than anything.You will forever be my everything.