My pretty island girl with flowers in her hair
She always smelled like vanilla and hairspray
And she was the only person I wanted to laugh with.
When Southern breezes swept our faces, we just smiled and held hands,
And when people passed, she asked me earnestly, how could I handle & keep my composure?
I looked to her softly, with mother Moon gazing over,
“I have no other choice.” & she wept for me.
And for ten years, we celebrated this cycle;
Laughing, smiling, holding and crying.
Reminding each other that we had no other option, but to collect our pride, and carry on.
And on the eleventh year, God said “No more!”
& the Earth opened and swallowed a Princess.
Shocked & dazed, we all came together,
to water her grave until exhaustion.
And He again left me, with no other option.
And without Marissa, I must carry on.