A young widow full of gloominess comes home,
She strengthlessly dumps her Bible on the King-sized bed.
As she shrinks down the edge of the King-sized bed next to the Bible, she heaves a deep sigh and begins unpacking.
She puts down her two year old son’s constant asking about his father’s whereabouts next to her,
Followed by her mother-in-law’s endless bawling directed to her whenever they have an encounter.
Seeing that there is still a lot of space on the bed to offload, She puts down the look of pity every neighbor gives her when she passed by.
She puts down the eviction notice she just received in the morning,
She gently pushes the load she has already next to her to up the bed to accommodate the rest.
She puts down the text message from her sister earlier chortling while at it,
But how can she think she is a strong woman when she is falling apart,
A “Powerhouse” is a word only deserved by those that don’t let situations define them.
Seeing that the bed is getting piled up,
She puts a smile on her beautiful baby girl’s face when she showed up for her school’s yearly concert.
She looked beautiful in a pink sparkle-princess dress.
She puts her husband’s last words on earth – I may die but my love for you remains, love never dies.
She sighs as she puts one small piece of her load that remains and is dear to her heart,
Hope that someday things will work out,
She takes a glimpse at the now full bed with pity
and strides away to respond to the persistent knock on her kitchen door.