The hospital room you died in

That hospital room will haunt me for years.

The echoing sounds of my cries are all I hear.

You spent months slowly dying in that bed.

The 18th of November you were pronounced dead.

The endless river of tears I shed.

Crying myself to sleep in my bed.

It was a terrible time in my life.

I almost turned to the knife.

You were my pop, you were my hero.

That room will forever be my ground zero.

The last time I saw you alive.

Was only hours before the end of your life.

You died weak, old and alone.

The last minutes of life, were spent on your own.

I swear I went into shock.

My body felt as hard as a rock.

The thought will never leave the walls of my head.

When I saw your lifeless body lie on that bed.

I’ve never felt a room so cold.

You were 92, you were so, so old.

The entire ward could hear my cries.

As I tried to say my last goodbyes.

I kissed the forehead of your pale face.

One last time, I held you in my embrace.

You served your country in the war.

You saw so much terrible gore.

But that can’t compare to when I saw you.

Breathless, motionless with a life lived through.

You suffered for months, but on that cold night.

You finally surrendered, ended your final fight.

You’ve been gone for what feels like eternity.

When it happened, was when I died internally.

Even though you’ll never read this.

I hope you know you’ll be forever missed.

I’ll love you until the day I die.

This poem is my final goodbye.