two days in a row?!
where do i start?
lately, i've been writing a lot of poetry about death. maybe it's because i've suddenly been faced with the reality of our mortality and it's been years since i've had to process that sort of thing.
when my dad muttered into the phone that my grand father has cancer, the world stopped around me. the word "cancer" can ruin a day, a week, a month and ultimately, a lifetime. literally.
but maybe death, although quite the end-all, be-all (to the faithless), isn't the worst thing we can endure. because death is quick. it's dying that seems to be the hardest bit to chew on.
a week ago, i visited my grandfather in his care center. the low-funding for the hospice really showed itself and the place was utterly depressing. it shook me to my core...that can't possibly be the way anyone wants to spend their last days.
Hearts on Hospice
so this is where we come to die
with cement walls and fluorescent lights
chasing ghosts down hallways of white
hoping God will hear our cry
we plead in desperation
as we lay on beds hard as stone
our tears fall in moderation, these days
as our bodies turn cold as stone
we speak to the angels, do they hear us cry?
will they lift our souls when our bodies die?
so this is where we come to say goodbye
our fears grow stronger and hopes collapse
as the ticking clocks show no remorse
we cling to every loving hand
as we let death tread it's course
their eyes glaze over in defeat
as the pain sinks deeper into our bones
stare up at photos of family
only to remind us that we die alone
we speak to the angels, but they dismiss our cry
we won't make it out alive, this time
we've come to say our final goodbye
lately, i've been writing a lot of poetry about death. maybe it's because i've suddenly been faced with the reality of our mortality and it's been years since i've had to process that sort of thing.
when my dad muttered into the phone that my grand father has cancer, the world stopped around me. the word "cancer" can ruin a day, a week, a month and ultimately, a lifetime. literally.
but maybe death, although quite the end-all, be-all (to the faithless), isn't the worst thing we can endure. because death is quick. it's dying that seems to be the hardest bit to chew on.
a week ago, i visited my grandfather in his care center. the low-funding for the hospice really showed itself and the place was utterly depressing. it shook me to my core...that can't possibly be the way anyone wants to spend their last days.
Hearts on Hospice
so this is where we come to die
with cement walls and fluorescent lights
chasing ghosts down hallways of white
hoping God will hear our cry
we plead in desperation
as we lay on beds hard as stone
our tears fall in moderation, these days
as our bodies turn cold as stone
we speak to the angels, do they hear us cry?
will they lift our souls when our bodies die?
so this is where we come to say goodbye
our fears grow stronger and hopes collapse
as the ticking clocks show no remorse
we cling to every loving hand
as we let death tread it's course
their eyes glaze over in defeat
as the pain sinks deeper into our bones
stare up at photos of family
only to remind us that we die alone
we speak to the angels, but they dismiss our cry
we won't make it out alive, this time
we've come to say our final goodbye