January

August 17, 2011
Petite white flurries float to the ground,
A sea of white, all around.
A crisp step down,
A fresh breath in,
A sense of joy; of happiness within.

A little girl in her little gown
In a little hospital bed, in a little town,
She wants to go out,
She wants to play,
She wants to run;
To run away.

A little girl suiting up for the snow,
A little girl she used to know.
‘Twas her old self, you see
Getting ready to go out with her family.

She had a love, a love so strong,
A love of the muted mourning bird’s song.
Up in the willow,
Up in the tree,
Her cancer had to be, to be.

She was living less by the second when her daddy came in,
All she said was,
“I want to hear it again.
The hollow moan,
The snow’s soft groan,
I know I’m about to die, but please Daddy,
Can I go outside?”

That little happiness was all she need
To scare away her cancer,
Not let it be.

That day was way back when,
Now she’s visiting the snow,
Her lifelong friend.
And all the king’s horses, and all the king’s men
Kept that cancer from coming back again.





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