I open my eyes
Another dull day
I stay here still
Where all I can do is lay
Lay down here on the same old bed
20 years 20 days and not a tear shed
I still can’t move not since that day
The day I lost my wife, the day my girl ran away
My son was seven
My daughter sixteen
Daughter’s now in heaven
And I’m here in grieve
My son still visits
But I can’t move
Can’t walk
Can’t talk
Can’t even breathe
Be the father I once was
Be the man I used to be
Because now I’m here
Surviving by just machines
My son
My only son, now twenty seven
brought my first grandson says
“It’s a gift from heaven!”
I remember the days
when he was a boy
Those memories
Those times
The times that I loved
But now my only memory
Is that damn ceiling above
I survived a car crash
That killed the woman I loved
My wife
I still survive
While she is up above
My son comes up and says to me
“One day you’ll be cured”
I can not even disagree
I just want to rest
Just let me die
Let me see your mother
Just say your goodbyes
I’ve been here for years
There is no cure
This is just pure torture
Can’t take it no more
I forgot how it feels how to move
It’s just memories and nothing more
I’ll be better up there
Trust me I’m sure
Because I prefer death
Because this is torture
Just let me go
Just let me be
I’ve been here so long
All I know is
The ceiling above me
