Phighter

When I think of inspiration I think of you.

The ways you’d play the flute while in need of a lung transplant, I haven’t got a clue. How you’d smile and wheel your oxygen while I carried your books. 

Even though some days we got some weird looks, 

it would never stop me from carrying your bag filled with all its little nooks.

Yet you were never less than glad just to have another day of life, another day of learning, and never mad about the cards life dealt you. 

My dearest inspiration Abby, my heart and soul always felt for you.

But you never stopped pursuing a life of joy and purpose, a life with you in it my sweet girl always seemed full.

Our days with your spirit were quite bright and warm, 

except without it,

 there has been so very much to mourn.

In such times as these is when your ever grateful heart must be carried on, 

by those of who

 you were most found.

Lines are blurred by the cascade of events, and nights we lay awake thinking of when we laid you to rest.

But there is more to be done then to be stuck in our sorrow

 when we have such a brave heart to honor with our tomorrow.

The breaths you took sure felt few,

 but I forever know I have a friend in you.

A legacy of a queen, who we lost at eighteen

 we have been blessed to know 

It is for you that we carry on with the show.

Continuing days without you has been scary,

 I certainly miss the days you’d pretend and play fairies.

Life can be unfair, this you've known for a while, yet you still always choose to rise above and continue to smile. 

My journey at times might feel alone, 

but it is only time until we are reunited in our eternal home.  

I will take all my days,

Live them like they are my last,

Simply from the inspiration you gave me in our past. 

 

This poem is about: 
My family
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