Counting Days
"Imagine a lovely garden, tea for two, and this story . . . "
On the first day, she was very dulcet
She was always with him watching the sunset
Fond of laying her body on his lap
Dreaming they’ll kiss while she takes a nap
On the second day, she was still smiling
Moving across their bed…reaching and waving
her soft hand to touch him but she became weak
She tried to kiss him as she watched him sleep
On the third day, her beauty faded
She was always on her couch; ill-hearted
Her man patiently waits for her everyday
but was never appreciated in any way
On the fifth day, he slowly walked away
As she watched him go, she wished that he would stay
but she could not speak now
For she was like a doll who couldn't take a bow
It was on the last, she broke her life
A little girl screamed when she saw a knife
and a red sleeping rose wearing her silky dress
Still facing the window and reaching for his caress
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