They could meet in a drunken incident,
in a church group or helpcentre,
in a hospital,
in a party,
she's nervous but she's gonna be brave, make the first move,
not indolent,
she strides confidently to him and says "you've got some groove",
really?
but despite this he smiles,
I don't know whether he can tell she's had a drink or two,
and suddenly all the nervousness in her out the window it flew,
there was something about that smile that stuck with her for longer than that night,
it was so bright and of course it was a beautiful sight,
but she never saw him after.
Not until she was in the hospital diagnosed with cancer yet again,
you probably didn't see that coming,
neither did he,
and even she,
or even me, the poet,
he happened to be the person that had strolled so casually into her hospital room humming,
and no they didn't stare for an eternity at one another waiting for the other to break the silence.
You were probably expecting him to ask the front desk receptionist for where exactly her room was and appear with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of violets,
they're her favourite flowers,
this time he didn't smile though,
she did,
at the irony of life,
why was it in her last days,
days from the day she had been diagnosed she had dreaded,
that she would finally see him,
There was a sorrowful tone in his voice as he spoke the words "she's up there but she's not gone",
she was an angel, at peace, in heaven,
Just like she had been to the people around her on Earth.
Just because a story doesn't end with a necessarily 'happy' ending,
doesn't mean the author is never an amazing writer when it comes to love,
doesn't mean the writer isn't skilled,
they aren't God from above,
so because this style of writing isn't easy for the reader and writer to catch,
doesn't mean anyone or even me can't be cupids' match.
