Borys

My dear brother

Who could have guessed,

That this dreaded curse would manifest in my family tree?

I thought life was about being healthy,

Happy and free.

I get out of bed every morning, 

To the same depressing sight.

My dear brother sitting at the kitchen table, 

Slowly sipping his tea,

While still hanging on,

In an important fight.

My dear brother,

Stay strong.

 

He takes his medication,

Against his body's will.

He remembers life years ago, 

When it was not a struggle,

But a thrill.

He now sits alone,

Hanging on to sanity and life.

He tells me that he may never see his loving wife.

And that he wonders what it is like,

In the afterlife.

My dear brother,

It is not over yet.

 

I walk through the rusted gate,

And the autumn leaves fall.

The grey sky,

Signals the beginning of light, soothing rainfall.

I look down on the gravestone,

And a tear brims from my left eye.

I never would have thought that I would be saying, "Goodbye."

It seems like this was all a mistake.

This was a truly horrific decision for God himself to undertake.

I now understand that saying,

That our precious time flies.

 

My dear brother,

Here he lies.

Comments1

  • Louis Gibbs

    I lost two brothers myself and can relate to this fine poem. Nice job, keep them coming, Borys!

    • Borys

      Thanks alot, Louis! I will keep the poems coming, but in loads of different genres. Sorry about your siblings.



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