The Mince Pie

We met once or twice,
You and I.
I remember you sitting in you chair,
Surrounded by buttons and phones.

I thought you were sweet,
Sitting there.
I wanted to know about your past,
Your dreams,
Your hopes when you were younger.

Sitting in pain, you never complained.
You asked after friends and family every time,
Making sure that everyone else was fine.

The last time I saw you, I knew,
I wouldn’t see you again.
Yet I will remember,
The second,
Mince pie.

Leave a comment