I watched from my window while he waited in line,
For fritters fried freshly, maybe worth a dime,
With a smile on his face, he embraced the paper bag,
He had to hurry home, without further lag.
Home was just here, we lived in the same dump,
I could see him no longer, I could hear the familiar thump,
With walls so thin, even paper would start to blush,
There was no question whatsoever that he was in a rush.
The smell of grated ginger wafted through my nose,
The sound of his hum, the tapping of his toes,
To a song I know ; by heart; by now,
'O Bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao'
Rumor has it , he'd sing this to her,
And even after, when she left him forever,
He lost his job, and everything he had,
If not for this song, he would have gone mad.
Tea was now ready, the snack was still warm,
No one to share it with, but there was no harm,
He didn't even like the greasy fried flour,
Those were her favorite, she'd eat them at any hour.
By now he had learnt to love himself,
Coz no one was there to care or help,
No one understood him ever, she was the only one,
Few years with her had been such bliss, such fun.
Alone but not lonely, he held on to this routine,
He closed his eyes, he remembered his queen,
It was always him and her against the world,
Now just him, the pin drop silence unfurled,
Him drowning in misery, she wouldn't allow,
so 'Bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao'
---‐--------------------💕