Today Was the Day
She walked ‘round the room
Her soul filled with gloom
Her eyes dull and grey,
For today was the day . . .
She paused by the bookcase
And noticed a space
Where a tome used to lay;
Today was the day . . .
In a sense she knew
What that shelf was going through
The emptiness it felt . . .
Weakened, she knelt . . .
She crawled to her bed
Her face a colourless red
Clutching her pillow tight,
Never again would her world be right
Then something caught her eye
Like a spider catching a fly
A book: the missing tome
Bleak against the table’s chrome
She turned it in her hand
The feel of its leather grand
Noticing prints of a finger
She let her thumb there linger
Tears welled up in her eye
And she couldn’t help but cry
His pillow was all she now had
To comfort her when she’d feel sad
All through the hours she wept
Excepting the moments she slept
She wished she could make someone say
Why today was the day . . .
The day God took him away.
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