| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Death >> ID #1395188 |
| |||||||||||||
|
REAL LIFE/REAL DEATH
He didn't die like they do on TV. He didn't whisper 'Goodbye', Close his eyes, and go to sleep. He wasn't pale and wan and painfully thin. No. My husband did not Die like I'd seen on TV. He was patches of colors He was purple and red He was swollen and jaundiced. His eyes didn't look lovingly into mine His eyes were yellow and unseeing. He didn't whisper 'goodbye'... He grunted and gurgled and gasped for each breath. He could hear, though, as evidenced by his tears In response to hearing the farewell voices of his children. He did not close his eyes and go to sleep. He fought and struggled and wheezed, furrowing his brow when we loudly sang AMAZING GRACE, and YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE... his yellow eyes not knowing where to look. And when I realized his breaths had stopped and the nurse pronounced him Dead, I kissed his cheek, said 'I love you', then screamed and jumped back from his bed. The warmth of my lips had expelled his last bit of LIFE. His mouth had let out a loud HISS and his head had turned to my face. NOW he was gone. That is how my husband died. I was not prepared-- How could I be? But now I know what real-life is like and how real-death can be. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
© Copyright 2008 Mona Lisa (UN: musiclady at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Mona Lisa has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |