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"Listen to me girl, life is not a game"

She peeks from behind the curtain, little curls framing her face

Trying her hardest, not to give her presence away

He looks at her and smiles, unaware now

How did he get here, when did he start to belong?

The door bell rings 

squealing she runs out,

she needs to be the one

to always open the door,

to her it's not a chore

Ecstatic she runs,

into the waiting arms

of the one so like her, 

only old

Turning around he sees

A little way by his bedside, on a dimly lit table top

a picture of him and her; dancing to some song

was it their favorite one or was it 80's pop?

Those were the days, the madcap times

he used to chase her around the room

trying to reach into the lightness, her brightness

she was, she is;

precious as precious can be

The little one enters,

flushed with laughter, 

pulling her lookalike along

His heart starts to leap 

like a thousand happy, jumpy frogs

How did they get here, when did they start to belong?