You were the first to hold me.
You were the first person I
saw when I opened my baby brown eyes
and took my first babyâ€™s breath.
I made you happy. I could tell.
Maybe you made me happy too,
And I think I knew.
I was your little daffodil.
But we could never be, you and me.
You gave my mother stargazer lilies
in the delivery room.
But you forgot.
You had already given her
Black eyes and a bleeding heart too.
Your apologies were so good,
But her memory was better.
Still, you stayed for awhile.
Long enough to make me think I was
something of value.
A single rose in a bouquet of
Carnations. Made of silver, but
surrounded by grey.
If only my shine had been enough to
make you stay.