I could not stop her pain,
The doctors could do no more;
She came home to spend her final days in agony,
Her bravery was something that I adored.
Most days my sweetheart could not get out of bed,
She said she didn't want to complain, but the room was so dismal;
Holding her hand, I made her a promise,
I would make COLOR more visible.
Opening the windows to the fresh air, I set to work painting the walls,
She loved leaves, plants and all sorts of foliage green;
She smiled her little smile, weakly at me, when my artwork was complete,
It was as if a lush springtime day could be seen.
A few days later, as I was once again holding her hand,
My beautiful angel slipped permanently away;
That strange little smile was still present as her eyes fluttered closed,
And I prayed that she would forever see that springtime day.
