As she was holding my hand,
She was taking her last breaths,
She was still holding my hand,
Still breathing so very slowly,
Her words were slurred,
She was mumbling,
Her words were slurred,
Still talking so very slowly,
As she lies in the hospital bed,
All she thinks about is death,
As she lies in the hospital bed,
Still dying so very slowly
She wants to go home,
She would prefer to be in her own house,
She warns to go home,
Still wishing so very slowly,
She's 91,
She's so frail,
She's 91,
Still wishing to die so very slowly.
She wishes she would die,
She will be happy,
She wishes she would die,
This pains me so very quickly.
Putting poetry and prose on a glasses,
A time passes,
The scar built gashes,
a sake of my health drew ashes,
This poetry talks about the glasses, and my Cancer journey.