The Waiting Room

This was written back at the end of November…

Your child is here, on this table, confused
‘How did I get here? Why is it so cold?’
It’s dark and the time is unrecognizable
‘When will I regain consciousness? When will life be ready for me again?’
In the past year, his life has been a fit of stops and starts
The brain processed what it could and the heart tried to handle the rest
But it’s a stifling air that’s caught in his lungs now
Losing the words to express it, or the ability to even speak up as time goes by, crippling
‘When will I regain consciousness? When will life be ready for me again?’
A set of rhythms are all that hold him in place, these days
Threatens to splinter apart at the loss of sound
And cry…just let the tears stream
The overcast skies show no mercy, they’re just as unjust as this feeling
‘My life has no sense to it. How do I ask for credibility now?’
So easy to dissolve without a loving gaze
The embrace is gone, ability to erase began too long ago
This is what becomes when invisibility takes place
Search for the soul, in a sense
So many sights unknown, you’ll forget what he looked like when he’s gone
Time does it’s part along with the shovel

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~ by kjbox76 on February 9, 2010.

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