The empty, the deserted, the lonely
Behind the frosted mountains
Comes another day, another bright morning
The broken dream, the unfulfilled promise
Of childhood years seeming ever so dear
“We will run away there,
in a place where no one can find us
where no one can see us,
I pinky promise.”
O, whatever happened to that precious pinky
Did it break? Did it fall apart?
Wishing that pinky was the only damaged good…
Seeing that last breadth
The beating heart muting into an eternal silence
The rosy cheeks paling into a sheet of thin ice
The eyes ... o the eyes
Once filled with life and love, with wit and humor
At times, with tears brimming on the edge,
All looks out as a glassy ball of sea green
Then closing those lids framed by coal black lashes
Only to know that they will never open ever again
All takes about eternity and a half
O the empty, the deserted, the lonely
O, on that hill where no one can find us
Where no one can see us
Waking up to another bright morning
Without anyone to hold
Except those childhood years seeming ever so dear.