Her eyes of gray that once were sky-blue,
stare out a window and watch you.
With envy she watches your everyday life,
and remembers the youth that had once been on her side.

He had told her that she was beautiful, everyday for forty years,
and on the day that he died, he'd whispered it in her ear.
The beauty her husband spoke of has long since been replaced ,
by thousands of wrinkles and age spots that now cover her face.

She sits in this building that smells of death and decay,
while two of her children live just four blocks away.
But with their families and careers, they just don't have the time,
to give her the "care" that the nursing home supplies.
So she sits at a window and watches people like you,
and sees the reflection of gray eyes, that once were sky-blue.

Copyright^© Angela Evon Walker