I was going to end it all,
then you reached for my hand.


I was too tired to go on,
but a bouquet of lilacs and baby’s breath
turned up at my door.
 

Pain was all I could feel,
until a child with cancer drew
a funny face for me, and laughed.


I was bitter, and I was cold,
until I saw veterans with paralyzed legs
ace a fast game of basketball.


Sunsets had lost their lavender and rose,
but a neighbor brought over paints and a brush
to color them in again.


Loneliness was draining me dry
when a relative sat me down and said, Write
to this woman;  her entire family died.


I had a miserable childhood, I thought,
then a boy told me his mom had burned him
with cigarettes before she ran off.


I didn’t want to be me anymore,
then someone I felt had never liked me
gave me a hug and told me I was her hero.


I was going to end it all,
then you reached again for my hand.
 

        (c)  Phyllis Jean Green

                 April, 2012