Missy Bear

In my arms I hold her,
Her starry red dress, faded from age
Yellowed writing names her
A green stripe through her once red bow.
Her shining eyes, pupils wide
Hide the sorrow behind her
The sorrow of pain, of love lost

The sorrow that is her past.
She sits on the bed waiting,
Waiting for Stacey.
The hours pass
The days go by
Now sleeping in my room
Her past a blur
In her memory it stays

But remembered it shall be,
That dreadful, dreadful day.