Letters Of The Dying Poem by Verona Valentine

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