Happy, hopeful poems tossed to the floor

Swept beneath her wooden bed frame

Children's storybook monsters carefully read each page

Forgotten loves, spectacular summer views

Like Shakespeare's thoughts on wrinkled lavender paper

Her closet overflowing with hand-sewn loveliness

A winter gown supported by a satin hanger

Elegant stitches on every seam

Barely worn with a giant bow across the back

In the sleek fabric-she sees only purple

All her courage threaded into one graceful gown

Lines of makeup decorate her somber face

A lilac's fragrance caught in the air

A soft-spoken femme straightening her dark brown hair

"To compliment the gown", she whispers

Before heading for the mahogany door

A note she'll write in precisely scripted print

With the same brilliant lavender paper

The very same tired calligraphy pen that inked her dreams long ago

A note explaining the meaning of life

Her hand touches the cold brass knob

As she turns to admire everything in its place

The golden sunset interrupts as it streams past her French curtains

She weeps as the rays spread across the polished floor

Holds up her delicate hands-she sees only purple