I saw you in my dream last night
You were 6 years too young
Wearing your hair in that messy ponytail with two strands in front; I
always loved when your smile touched the ends of 'em
Six minutes of everything that could've been in
six moons
And you come back home that Monday morning without a hole in
your memory
And your organs don't forget you the way you forgot us; the way
the world forgot the colour of your smile
In those six minutes, we cut six cakes instead of worrying if you've
already had your last taste of vanilla
Even without the hole, we forget;
that you had no favourite colour
Oh wait... was it brown? Particularly the shade of daddy's eyes,
maybe not
You were always so colourful, except for the hundreds of funeral
clothes you had;
I guess red is also a colour, especially the shade that matches our eyes
when we see the six-year younger version of you for the shortest six
minutes of our lives
Maybe you'll wear that ponytail again; I'll never forget that ponytail.
~~Konadu