Dear lady on the wall, I know you once were up and moving and worrying and dreaming and doing all that we; that still can breathe do.

Right now, you stay still hanging in my picture frame, that beautiful frame that cost us a fortune behind that clear glass.

You lady on the wall are a piece of my history; ingrained deep in my blood. You are now a piece of my children’s history too.

Well, I don’t think I can have a complete story of myself without you in it even though you sit still  on my wall. You lady on the wall are my mother or should I say were my mother. I really don’t know the best way to word it, but all I know is that no other can ever make up that piece of my history that you and only you fit into.

Lady on the wall, some times I catch myself smiling back at you or at times crying expecting you to cry along with me; you don’t and I know you can not because you are a just lady on the wall;my wall.

I walk past you in that frame and i start to believe that you are talking to me, saying some words left unsaid, some times i get to believing you are shedding a tear out for me or do i?. I take a step back, stare straight at you and realize am just day dreaming for you are just a lady on my wall!

By Susan McMillan