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Since she was only five. She's been used to a punch or a kick. She feels it's a privilege to be alive. Because she is fatally sick. Even though her time has a limit she does not grief.
Aunt Lilian looked over the ledge, her fate decided. The merry folk of the Acre Nut Old People's Home laughed weezily, danced arthritically, played sport poorly, but at least THEY were happy.
#youngwritershousehold Oh, my grandmother, The one with the hair, The one always, Sitting on the chair. It's wooden and brown, Places on the docks Did I mention it Also Rocks.
Nobody stops, They pretend they don't stare, When they see you, old man, just sitting there. On that brown painted bench in that popular park, Sometimes until way after dark.