Letters of the Dying

I’ll never see my sweet sixteen

Don’t know when I'll see my friends again

I won’t see a glimpse of my debut

Or even practice my great adieu



I’ll never have a date for prom

Or get my hair done at the salon

I’ll never be able to get my license

Or get a new car as a present



I’ll never make a speech on my graduation

Or gush and be excited for my reunion

I won’t make it to my first job interview

Or be known for the things I knew



Nobody will ever give me an engagement ring

I’ll never get to pick a dress for my wedding

I’ll never have the chance to say ‘I do’

Or try to kiss my children’s boo-boo



I’m just an empty, hollow shell

A good for nothing little girl

I’ll never brighten my parents’ faces

Or fill up any empty, cold spaces