The Dying Man
His bones were down the home
Straight when he was twenty,
And they began to stiffen twenty
Years after that.
He kept going, though, until they
Stopped holding him at eighty.
His muscles having given up,
So long before, and now he stopped moving.
He lost control of his bladder,
And his kidneys have up soon after.
By the time he was in hospital
His liver was dead,
From too many good nights out.
And he was soon brain-dead.
But nothing
Would stop
His heart.
Until he saw
His love.
One last
Good bye,
And one
More cry.
The doc,
Did not
Get it.
He was
Too weak
To open
His eyes.
But his
Heart kept
Beating.
With no
Meds.
Until
He saw
Her face,
Again.
She touched his hand.
His eyes opened.
Three more words.
And he fell into the abyss of death
MCN :: CGMBN-DSUPP-HQYSD
Copyright: Liz Veronika Turner
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
The Dying Man, which
was posted on Sep 28, 2011 by
LizVeronika.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"A man who is on the last few moments of life. But he will not die until he's see..."
This poem is filed under:
Free Verse, Love / Romance, Philosophy / Moral
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