Cradled to the End

She told me is doesn't matter anymore...

Your son left, but you remain...

Her clothes are the same as Mondays...

And he left 4 years ago with shame...

Too weak to ever see her this way...

She holds the door so tight, abject fear of ever going through...

Screamed as I carried her...

How could you? To think I once loved you...

When I hold her from behind and she smells my cologne...

She will smile and call out my name...

I hold her tighter, so she wont turn and see my tears...

I've loved her for 33 years...

Degradation of body and mind will often define...

The courage of love...

That allows me to call her mine....

My baby girl, who still shines...

Even from the recesses of her mind...

1985 in yellow shorts to die for...

Let's go back inside, through the door...

That I carried you over, once before...

With hair that skimmed the floor...

Now pale skin cradled in my hands...

She was right...You'll love me forever, even to my end.