My Lola Pilar
Was a collector of precious things
Her most prized possesion is her memory
When that went away she fell away
Her heart filled with sorrow or joy only
I miss our breakfast mornings
Even when I was older
And sat in the table
In last night’s clothes
I hope I didn’t break your heart like your children
I’d like to believe I made you proud
By living the way you did
Making my own memories