Some things come in three's
Found out new year, January.
The day being the fourteenth,
A month before lovers meet.
A week before was tragic,
Something happened leaving no magic.
Things became hard that week,
Leaving me lost, confused, weak.
Third week was January twenty-first,
Only you know when it's worse.
All that was seen was blood
Not believed at first, no hug.
I was with two friends,
Didn't want this to mend.
Couldn't go home right then,
so I went to Mom; a friend.
I had a picture to remember,
She hugged me as we knew
it wouldn't be in September.
Now that three months passed
I still can't deal with the last.
I'll never know what could have been
Doesn't everything happen for a reason?
Kate Glencross EN102-006
