A Poem By: Lee A. Zito
The sun shines bright
through the window into the old fashioned room
Fifties wall-paper, fifties furniture.
Close the shade please she whispered.
At the dusk of life
the sun still doesn't bring her joy.
It never had.
As a child there was no playing,
no adoration for the warm rays of sunshine.
She had betrayed the sun
therefore she grew sick.
Disease caressing her with seductive death
Dancing with her, passionately.
She loved the dance with death.
She knew his ways, and it knew hers.
And suddenly it left, but never taking her along.
On the floor, still she lay
with wavy streams of loneliness.
He left and although she was alive,
he had taken her life.
Here you are now, Auntie dear.
Screaming, no, screaching
"Don't touch the walls!"
Of course not, I won't...
It is still the same, everything's still the same
Except you, Auntie.
How will you dance now?
How will you dance with death?
Especially since he left you.
Never to dance again.