I entered the hospital room with trepidation,
Carrying the bouquet of carnations;
Mary, the eighteen-year-old woman, was laying in the bed with many people around her with faces of concern,
Mary was wrapped head to foot in bandages from severe burns.
When her family saw me enter the room, they quickly made excuses for their departure,
I smiled weakly, fearing this stressful ardor;
Half her face was exposed, and I could see her recognition of me,
She smiled as best to her impaired ability.
I visited Mary everyday for weeks to come,
She recovered slowly, but with my help she was coming out of the tragedy that had made her numb;
My own wife of ten years did not understand why I continued my habitual visits,
She said I had done more than my duty; I should just forget it.
But Mary needed me, this much was absolutely clear,
Although she had many friends and family, she needed ME near;
I was her savior, but she needed saving in her spirits,
And her salvation lied in my daily visits!
We grew close, Mary and I, laughing, joking, and crying and feeling free,
She told me how she had been abused as a child, and I told her how my father had abandoned me;
The weeks turned to months, there in that inner-city hospital room,
My own home wasn't a home, centered on some undesirable gloom.
My wife did not approve of my trips to see Mary at all,
She had finally put her foot down, threatened to leave me, if I did not desist my calls;
So with a heavy heart one rainy Sunday afternoon I entered her room slowly,
She was healing well, sitting up, smiling at my entry, and I felt lowest of the lowly.
Mary...I began, tears in my eyes, You are very special, smart, a good sense of humor, quite attractive....
Her eyes had grown wide--as if she knew what was coming--she was very attentive;
I have come to enjoy my time with you, very much, I conveyed,
If I was younger, or time could roll back, maybe I could have stayed.
I have a wife that needs me too,
You have family and friends that can be here for you;
I need to be there for homework and baseball with my son,
I know you will find love, Mary, but I'm not the one.
Watching her eyes spill over and her lip quiver,
I walked out of the room, leaving a dismalness with the words I delivered;
Down the hall and around the corner I fell against the wall, and my own tears ensued,
Because the fireman who had saved her had a family and responsibilities, but he had grown to love her too....
