Jumpy dots and numbers in red,
Shallow breaths and tubes with med.
Are we destined to this?
Unconscious, so far as we can tell.
Not in too much pain, doctors compel.
How sure are you?
It is only natural, someone had told me.
Maybe it was from that stupid movie.
Am I supposed to believe it?
Too scared even to touch his sleeve
Lest my hand be his last heave.
Go on, tell me I'm being irrational!
Then,
Slowing the pace.
And no more.
What am I supposed to think?
He's gone, God took Him.
He's with Jesus, all the better.
What am I supposed to feel?
Rage. Disgust.
Full. Empty.
What am I supposed to do?
Wait.
Yes, wait for the Day.
Wait.
-- For my father-in-law (1948 - 2015) --
