Hope


They gave her all they had - some said she had too much,
but what became important was what she would give up.

She traded lead for paper, but the paper turned to sand,
so she changed her mind again and wrote it on her hand.

His name was just four letters, short yet so serene
and as she dug each letter deep, she knew they'd go unseen.

Each day ended like the last, these same letters upon her hand;
and as she dug them deep each day she thought about the sand.

On the day that was her last, this time she did not miss.
She dug the letters deep enough to let us reminisce.

Of her life and sorrow, that's all we ever saw,
but had she not dug deep enough, we'd not know of her at all.

His name was just four letters, short yet so serene
and I think about her constantly,
her face etched into my mind.

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