She was terribly ill,
Surviving on a pill.
But deep within
A suspicion had begun to grow,
When she peeped
Outside the window.
Had a firm belief,
Destined on that last leaf.
From her tree when that fell
Almighty would ring the BELL.
In that chilly winter,
Her parents approached a painter.
“Bed-ridden she may be
But I give no guarantee.”
Explained the painter,
With a touch of pain.
He believed the girl should
Live through the pain
But to her parents delight,
The girl started putting up a fight.
Hopes pinned on her last leaf,
Which had shared her grief.
Even when it rained
The leaf still remained.
Each passing day,
Necessitated another pray.
Hoping the leaf would stay.
Today she is well,
As the leaf never fell.
For it was a plan
Of an old man
To paint an artificial one on the window
Just to let the life’s desire grow…