A poem about the pain of watching a loved one die.
Your bony branches are bowed
And your leaves are withered
Wrinkles on your face.
Your sunshine eyes have dimmed
To a mid-twilight defeat.
Your melodic laughter has
Grown silent as the rain of a storm
Unfinished falls from your eyes.
The person I see before me
Is a skeleton of someone I once knew,
Someone I once loved.
The sands of time have eroded
What we once shared,
Your twister-like behavior uprooted
The sacred family tree.
Yesterdays collapse before me
Demanding forgiveness and sympathy.
I see in your eyes the secret fact of life
I try to obscure from my consciousness:
There is no security in this game
Of chance.
There is no guarantee of good yielding good,
Or bad yielding bad.
There is only one certainty.
That my bones, too, will bow;
That my leaves, too, will wither;
That my eyes, too, will fall in defeat.
You look at me with dulled blue orbs
Of insanity, impartiality, loss—
Begging for some relief from the knowledge
That you are forced to face.
As you approach death, I want nothing more
Than to hold your hand.
Hey You, 