In almost every poetry, or stories,
Girls are saved by handsome men,
With flashing eyes and bright smiles.
I woke up, in a bed,
In a room sickly white.
And there she sat,
An old women,
A stranger, by my side.
Her eyes were dim, and grey.
Her skin white, a bit pale.
She smiled as she saw my fluttering eyes,
And I realised that I was truly saved.
For I have been hurt before,
But never saved by the human being.
And there was finally one,
Sitting right next to me.