Ice-Cream

Imagine.
You're seven years old,
Give or take a few months.
You're mother is standing in front of you
And the expression on her face is one of sincerity,
And sympathy.
She takes you by the shoulder and says;
"I'm so sorry darling, but Ice-Cream has died"
(Ice-Cream being the hamster in question).
The pain is so much so that you think of nothing else for days.
The fluffy memories of that fluffy creature
Froth in your mind like candyfloss.
Nothing feels the same.
A constant stab in the heart,
Everytime you look at the worn down patch of carpet
Where his cage used to be.
Nothing could ever be worse,
Feel as gut wrenching as this...

But time passes by...

Think, again.
Seven years on and Ice-Cream is nothing
But a dark patch of dust on your memory.
A familiar man stands before you,
And there is no need to ask.
No need to question this desperate creature
Because the answer is clear.
"She's gone".
No words.
No thoughts crowd the gulf between you and your father
But 8 Letters remain floating in the air.
Expanding like helium balloons
They suffocate you.
A letter for each year that you had,
One for the year that you did not.
And you know in your heart,
That you would give all
Everything that you had,
Just to turn back seven years
(Give or take a few months)
And have her standing before you,
Repeating that mantra.