He waited on the sidewalk, listening for her call.
He knew her by her whistle, without saying a word at all.
Her calm familiar footsteps, he thought, sounded down the way.
He knew at any minute, he'd see her face today.
The minutes passed to hours. The sun was low and dim. Was he mistaken or was she really not coming at last for him?
He was sure he heard her laughter, her steps he knew so well.
Great and dark disappointments- sad truths within his hell.
He turned his heavy footsteps,
bent down with heavy heart.
A nightmare-a truth-
he wished desparately to never be a part.
The tears begin to gather.
They blurred his view ahead.
He turned the last and bitter corner,
on the bench he found her dead.
Tucked inside her buttoned pocket, he found a note which read,
"I'm sorry, I just can't."
She was gone forever and her choices she could not recant. -Erin A.