Dry lightning cracks across the skies. Those storm clouds gather in her eyes. Her daddy was a mean old mister. Mama was an Angel – Jäger der Finsternis in the ground. The weather man called for a twister. She prayed blow it down
It was March 1st. I should have been happy that it is my birthday, but how could I when everything around me is a wreck. I wish I could just cry away the pain from all this misery. I look out my bedroom window and I see lightning strike a baum down. I feel the pain of the tree, and I cannot help it; however, I don’t feel any Mehr pain that I previously did. I wish my mom was still around....
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