Monday, August 17, 2015

Someone

The oak door creaked
Open, and a little head
Peered in.

With eyes wide open,
She took in the machines,
The TVs that seemed
To be broken and
The woman that was
Broken.

She smiled sweetly
And ran towards the bed
Only to be stopped
By the family doctor.

He stooped down and
Whispered in her ear,
Her glee soon became sorrow
And when he released her,
Her gallop became
A hesitant stride.

Peering up at all
Who stood beside
The bed, she came to
A stop at the foot of it.

Then before they could
Stop her, she climbed
Up onto the bed and
Curled up beside
The woman.

Those who moved to
Removed her were stopped
By those who were moved
By the little girl's actions.

The actions of a little girl
Who wanted to sleep
With Mommy one last
Time, before the warmth
Slipped away, before
Her humanity exited
Her body, leaving something
So clinical and empty
That they refer to it
As a cadaver.

Until then, this lifeless
Body was Mommy, Wife,
Daughter, Sister, Friend
This was someone.

4 comments:

Blogoratti said...

What a solemn and sad piece, life is so precious indeed. Nice of you to share!

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Excellent - love the perspective here. Great, just great.

Kimolisa Mings said...

Thanks Buddah :D

Kimolisa Mings said...

Thanks Blogoratti

 
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