I know I'm not helpless, but what can I do?
Who carries the weight? Who sees us through?
I talked to you there in your hospital bed: my love not a token; the spirit was fed.
You looked so lovely, younger in my eye; skin soft and smooth; unblemished; alive.
Stomach extended: broth for food.
Why fear for this life? It comes to an end..when comes the silence: but until then; my hope is his hands:
Love to a friend.
-
Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 12th, 2026 09:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.