SHE

Perhaps in her own quiet way,
Maybe it was her tone of voice,
Was it how she walked?
Or how she would throw things in that house?
I did not hate her and ofcourse i could never love her,
But sometimes her actions irritated me.

When she comes, for she is now gone,
I will tell her,
If i get the courage to,
For her eyes, im sure, still hold the same piercing look, rude stare, and her voice, the same angry tone,
That made me look away when she asked for her bathing shoes.

I can hear her knock.
Courage, don't fail me
Strength, hold my legs well, i dont want them to shake,
When she asks for her lost spoon.