Paris

• Eleanor Buckham, Grade 5
• Poetry
• 2017

Why did you do what you did?
Why did you have to die?
We couldn’t see the sadness inside,
the sadness you wanted to hide.
Your hair was like the desert,
The colour of red sand.
Your freckles made you special,
Which you would never understand.
I’m sorry you committed suicide,
I don’t really understand why you died,
but I loved you like a brother,
your smile was like no other,
and though we didn’t get to say goodbye,
I see your spirit in God’s sky.