Wednesday, January 7, 2009


It's Christmas time again.
The sky is that bright blue
That makes you want to sit on the beach,
From day break to sun down.

Unfortunately, I can only feel the warmth
Through the window of my hospital room,
Well, more like my body's hospital room,
And I can only imagine the warmth.

God, I was so pretty,
My skin the colour of sweet caramel,
And always my weave tight.
Now I can barely look at myself.

Tubes and wires everywhere,
Machines pushing, cramming life
Into my body.
I would make it cry, if I could.

It's Christmas
And I only want one thing.
Anything else would be pointless
As I would never enjoy it.

As my mother speaks to my body,
I whisper my wish into her ear.
As my father strokes my hand,
I whisper in his ear.

I could only hope
That they hear me.
As the days tumble into Christmas Day,
I whisper my wish.

Then on the blessed morn,
Of the day that a wonderful life began,
Each member of my family kissed my body
And turned off a machine.

And soon my body had to live for itself,
But it could never do that.
As the darkness engulfed me,
I whispered for the last time.
"Thank you, and I love you all,
Now and Forever."

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