The Phone Call

It was a dark evening this Thursday night,
And as she sat on the green garden grass,
She gazed above and saw a moon, so white,
Glaring right back at her

She held the pendant which read,
‘To My Little Angel’, close to her heart
And remembered her father and what he said,
I’ll always be here for you’.

But it seemed as though the sky, so dim
Told her, something wasn’t right,
There was something, pulling her away from him,
An invisible and mysteriously invincible strength

She didn’t know why, a tear trickled down,
She couldn’t understand why,
Those tears filled her eyes, so brown,
And then unknowingly, began to weep out loud

The night surged on, and there she was,
Without a sound, still holding on,
Wondering why her cries wouldn’t pause,
Why her eyes didn’t dry…

She went astray in the thoughts, of those memories, so sweet
And thinking about those marvellous days she spent
With her dad, made her heart skip a beat
She knew, something wasn’t the way it used to be…

The phone began to ring, in the dead of the night,
Feeling so numb, she ignored the shrill sound,
It rang yet again, so she got up, slowly with all her might,
She walked, slowly to the buzzing receiver.

She greeted the solemn voice, with a meek ‘hello’,
The voice seemed to bring her, the news she dreaded,
The news which made her face turn yellow,
And she insensitively dropped the receiver…

Not for reproduction.

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