Red heart, glued on white paper lace. Crayoned verse, letters crooked and out of place. Faded now, with lines and creases. It still stirs my heart, memory of when you were small. And we both believed, everything would be alright after all. Times you leaned on me, later times I leaned on you. We knew no matter what came, somehow we would see it through. But the cold wind blew, and your flame sputtered out. Still in the echoes of my mind I hear "Mommy, be my Valentine."
