It’s 5:30am;
My feet are swelling;
I may die.
I don’t know why
Medicines haven’t helped.
Doctors have tried:
Augmentin and ecosprin,
Dexa and para,
Haven’t yet seemed to win.
New fear is assailed –
I’m not fearful of death –
I have lived a nice life
And when I die,
I’ll be free of strife.
A moment to smile
That I’ll die younger,
And yet quite satisfied
All of my hunger.
Come morning,
If I survive,
I’ll have new fears,
I’m wondering if living
Is worth the new tears?
When life is hardest hit,
You see with empty eyes,
You see life falter,
You watch, as it dies…
You look around in pain,
Through opaque ground glass,
Others say, it’s just time,
Yet, it does not pass!
As life lays dying,
You are well aware
Of those who feel
And choose to be there.
Words are dead like you now.
Dead like lungs that won’t breathe
Without a ventilator:
Sad COVID ridden bags
That don’t mean much when burnt,
Despite all the roads travelled,
Despite all the lessons learnt.
Eventually, they lie on paper,
Like dead lungs in plastic,
Left for those who may read,
If it falls within his creed.
Ultimately they are dead leaves,
Hanging on some dead tree,
For ghosts and strangers meaning
Nothing to you and nothing to me.
Hearts Still Care 
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