I have a friend of mine fighting cancer. I lost my uncle and my grandma to this disease. I am not sure what end awaits me. Each morning I go out into life expecting to live a hundred. I want to be there for generations, forever. I plan to give it a fair try, one hundred is not a far cry! Someday I wish I could grow wings and fly.
If I could do a Neruda, You would have smelt of summer roses And Autumn pine. There would have been sheer love Of the kind that causes our hearts to ache And loneliness bordering the divine. You would have had so many secrets Welling up as in a girly giggle And so few friends who would hear them all. I am no Neruda I can't paint you a Summer breeze Amidst this long winter chill.