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