What does true love look like?
It’s between a man of 90 and a woman of 80
The woman on the bed
Weak and unresponsive
She doesn’t look good, everyone knows
With an oxygen tube attached around her nose
To help her breathe at least at the moment
The man sits beside the bed even if he is tired
He doesn’t care, he will stay with her
He talks to the woman, tears falling down his cheeks
She is my wife, he keeps on repeating
He calls her name again and again
But all she can do is stare blankly at him
They’ve been together for a decade of six
And stood through the storm of life in all of those years
Together, they got each other’s back
They are not just partners, no
But soulmates in fact
She clenches her teeth
Rolls her eyes
Catching her breath
Chasing her heartbeat
Everyone tries to help her
But she is too tired
She is too weak and too old to fight
She looks at her husband as he holds her hand
A tear falls from her worn out eyes,
This is the last memory of him that she will keep
Before she closes her eyes
And peacefully sleeps
There is a girl in a lovely pink dress,
Seems too small for her, but she wears it nevertheless.
She sits on the swing and looks at the sky,
A smile on her face as she sings a lullaby.
The girl had her hair tied in a pink ribbon,
But she doesn’t seem to play with any of the children.
She sits on the swing, goes back and forth,
Scraping the ground using her foot.
The girl on the swing, she’s always there once a year,
Swinging up and down, every 10th of September.
Her hair tied in a pink ribbon, wearing the lovely pink dress,
That even if its too small, she wears nevertheless.
I sat on the swing a day before the 10th,
And saw that the ground had seemed to ascend,
Under my feet was a gravestone that paved,
To the girl in a little pink dress’ grave.