Sitting there, staring out the window,
I notice the rain that follows the widow.
She starts walking inside the house, wearing that dreadful blouse.
I float downstairs and hear her cry,
“My love! My sweet love! Oh where have you gone? ”
I tap her shoulder, my hands going right through her.
“Forever I miss my dear.” I whisper.
The widow stood up and walked to the window,
To see me, by the tree, that welcomed her to the sorrow.
I wave one last time
Now it’s time to bid one last goodbye.
I disappear and float away
“I’ll sit here in despair, ” she will say.
“And never forget the tree, that murdered my dearly beloved.”