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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1700577
A short poem from the perspective of a coma patient
I dance jauntily with in my mind,
Sway, swing and skip in kind.
Merrymaking to a fro,
Clipping, clopping heal to toe.

Little voices fly to me,
Well wishers I can not see.
They hope and they beseech,
Some pray and some preach.

For what I do not identify,
I do not care to know why.
I am happy in my ecstasy,
Why do these voices bother me?

© Copyright 2010 Shri Coralina (wildwiccan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1700577-Coma