That Ancient Girl

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That Ancient Girl

That ancient man stares at me with those familiar, wizened eyes

He wears a pair of blue jeans that I once bought him and a white cotton shirt

He holds a vase of orchids in his hands, my favorite flowers when I’m hurt

He smiles an anguished smile and sings a warbled song

But in so many ways, I felt so wrong

That young girl lies on the hospital bed in a hospital gown

She lays restless, as it always had been, under many covers

She watches me there—trying to be strong—and tells us both not to cry

She roams her bright, brown eyes around the room and tells one last lie

She tells me to “Let it be”, to “Grandpa set me free”

And then I watch my girl, I watch her die

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