Strangers brushed past me in a hurry, some pushed me out of the way,
None of them with a care in the world, except what got them to hospital that day.
Every corner bellowed with screams and cries, of anger, frustration and pain,
The smell of blood and bleach inside my head, taken for granted like the sun and rain.
I must have walked past a million rooms I think, horrors of silence guarded by closed doors,
Syringes and drugs reminders of fine margins, littered all across the clean floor.
Everything around me suffocated me, and then suddenly inside my brain there was this trigger,
I panicked and then broke into a run, but I collided into an equally hasty figure.
"Sorry sir", I mumbled as I helped him back up, I suddenly noticed he was carrying flowers,
And even though I'd rammed into him pretty hard, he'd protected them as if they had mystical powers.
" I'm hoping you're okay?" i helped him back up, He was pretty old by the wrinkles on his skin,
"That's alright son, atleast these are okay!" he pointed to the flowers with a grin.
"May I know who they are for?" I asked, not knowing If I'd been too nosy,
"why don't you tag along with me?" he said, "I'd like you to meet my darling Rosy."
So I followed him as he strolled to the door, turned the doorknob and went inside in haste,
As I entered I stopped to behold, a room designed to match a lady's taste.
The wall tapering, the curtains even the floor, everything was made pink with little tweaks,
But the pink that stood out the most in the room, belonged to the one on the lady's cheeks.
She sat serenely on the centre of the bed in the room, her face not betraying a trace of emotion,
Her eyes wandered like a lost traveller, their actual destination a forgotten notion.
"Hi Rose!" he said breaking the monotony, "look what I've got for you today?"
He placed the vase of flowers onto her lap, she looked at him and just threw them away.
Must have been some issue somewhere I guessed, as he bent down to pick the vase,
The flowers he had protected with all his soul, now lay in a mess all over the place.
"Is... Everything alright?" I enquired picking up the petals, "Something wrong between you and ma'am?"
"Son, she's had Alzheimer's for 3 years now" he said, "she doesn't even remember who I am."
She doesn't remember anything I said over the years, doesn't remember the pain she's always carried,
She doesn't recollect her favourite colour is pink, or anything from the 42 years we've been married.
"And you still come here everyday?" I asked baffled, "even though she doesn't recognize who you are?"
"She doesn't remember but I do, son" he smiled, "I remember everything that has brought us this far."
I've always got only her favourite flowers, knowing how happy they've made her before,
And I bring them to her every single morning, inspite of knowing they'll usually end up on the floor.
"I'm somewhat like these roses you see? Sometimes I bring a fleeting joy into her thoughts,
Then there are times she doesn't notice me, and I'm ripped piece by piece and left to rot.
But irrespective of that I choose to hang on, because I know what I've always craved,
This is just one of the infinite little things, that over time out love has stubbornly braved.
Im sure we'll get through this little hurdle too, it's nowhere as tough as you reckon,
If nothing gives I'll spend the rest of my life trying, to be the special part of her day, for even a second."
He smiled then turned back to the lady, talking to her like nothing had ever gone wrong,
He stood there telling her about his day, he laughed, cried.. And even sang her a song.
I wiped the tears from my eyes as I took my leave, the voices in my head were now really meek,
As I replayed the episode of undying love, between a man and the lady with pink in her cheeks.
