The Sprout

Poem: Suffering

Posted by archifCLICarchive from National - Published on 10/05/2010 at 14:15
1 comments » - Tagged as Creative Writing

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My heart hammers its final beats against my broken chest,
It’s a wonder it can manage that.
The past sorrows I have suffered have weakened me,
Until I can’t go on much longer,
But it’s ok, I won’t have to live through this.
They say everything we love leaves us,
But I’m about to join them.
My heart monitor gives a mournful bleep,
my pale eyes flicker open.
Is it fair for one to see so much suffering,
feel so much pain?
Family dead, friends too, it seems I live in churches.
One hundred and twenty is a great age to live to they say,
A real achievement.
But they don’t see the world through my eyes.
Never remembering which face is which,
Asking for friends that died years before.
Then one day a relative brings with them a cold,
Just the flu but my frail body can’t cope.
I fall desperately ill, and here I am all alone as I fall into death.
The heart monitor goes flat, but nobody notices.