This is for the little girl in the big white bed,
You try to lift your small, weak head.
You body is fragile, and oh, so light.
A blanket of snow holds you tight.
Like a hug from an angel you don't want to end,
But you're falling away and you can't pretend
That your last breathes aren't passing your lips
As your life slips through your fingertips.
I listen with intent to the hopes you had before,
My tears fall gently on the cold black floor.
You finish your story, look at me and smile,
Then reach for my hand and hold it for a while.
If things get hard, you tell me, don't worry.
And through my tears I tell you I'm sorry.
For I stand here with all the time in the world,
Yet I can give none to this poor little girl.
I choke out words of promise that I
Will live, if I live every day that goes by.
Your light dims now; you know that it's time.
With your weak, shaky hand you cling to mine.
I wonder why a girl so full of belief
Should ever be crippled with such morbid grief.
Your innocent eyes close and fade out then.
Goodnight, dear stranger. Until we meet again.