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Most of the time they come
early in the morning when I just can't sleep.

When I realize that I am alone
in our bed now made up of memories and dust.

Out of nowhere they are there again
the damn questions with no answers.

Why her? Why me? Why so young? Why?

Of course the only answer I ever get is cloaked in silence.

The answers are obvious of course,
and really are the only ones possible
when one stops and thinks about it.

Why not her? Why not you? Why not now?

Why not?

If only the questions would stop.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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