I am not
your family,
most of them
are gone.
Within
the week,
we'll lose
you too.
I am here
at your bedside
telling you
through hazy eyes
that your
days are
likely few.
I cant
perform
the procedure
you desire.
Your thinned
blood makes
the risk
too great.
What I
can do
is care and
encourage
and flounder
and cry
as we try
to accept
this fate.
- Author: PACollin ( Offline)
- Published: October 16th, 2017 16:27
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.