Cough for her.
Robotic her lungs, don't let her die.
Comfort her, story for her, hold and let her cry.
Terminal her label,
and privatize her view.
Unplug the machine because that's what she asked you to do.
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Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 17th, 2026 05:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments1
This poem carries for me a picture of someone on a machine to sustain life. It is sad and presents the picture of someone that does not want to be carried by machinery but let life take its course. Well done
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