Murdered

My dad was murdered, it occured when I was seven, to him it was a filler but to me

heroin is a killer. After he was gone, I went to, I managed to lie even as I cried.In a

 way I also died. My tears surround me, making a river sometimes even causing me

to shiver. I hope no one else falls downa nd drowns in addiction, because losing a

father is not a fiction

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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