There's a faded pink ribbon,
Woven in cold, plated nickel
It's a memory, and a reminder
Of all her grandmother fought through;
If only she hadn't left
Before saying goodbye.
There's a globe, still until spun at will,
Rotating on a pewter axis
The world, small enough to fit in her palm
If she chooses to take it,
And yet it keeps going, on and on,
There's a legendary weapon,
A key-shaped sword to fight the darkness
And to unlock things
Even things that should stay locked away,
Hidden from prying eyes.
There's an aged, worn out Minnie Mouse,
Still smiling through the chipped paint
Her childhood ended before it began,
But she still yearns for it;
Growing up is optional,
In her case, mandatory.
There's a tiny violet flashlight,
Blindingly bright for its size
With a twist of the head,
It illuminates her way,
Either to aid her sight,
Or protect her from what's lurking in shadow.
There's a premature parting note
"When I die