A thousand winters you have spent alone,
Your hands so frozen, begging for some sun,
And as you think your heart might turn to stone,
She comes and says, “your life has just begun”.
She holds your hand, your gaze, and wanders through
Your thoughts, those alleys filled with sombre visions.
She softly sings, “Don’t worry, baby blue,
To paint your world in colour is my mission.”
You bloom in petals, evergreen and gay,
Until one day you open up your eyes –
Surrounded by the sunray-cladded May,
In bed, beside you, body lifeless lies.
The joy, the laughter buried in past tense,
Because without her colour makes no sense.