An inanimate object without a beating heart,
a person of free will, not a soul, but merely a part,
can simple wires summon her mind?
Can it leave a past beyond redemption behind?
A face of pallor, a face of pain,
who knows if her intellect can still be called sane?
Her coma is a perpetual dream,
her lips have been sewn into a tight seam,
can defibrillation untie the stitches?
Can a sip of medicine turn her needles to riches?
her mind is adhesive, stuck to a single state,
perhaps there is time left, perhaps it's too late...
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
Poetry~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
