Friday, February 20, 2009

I guess that's why it feels so wrong...

Laying here, not sleeping
thinking, remembering.
Why?
Tubes, gauze, sterility,
beeping, humming machines,
warm, alive, breathing,
but not there.
Why?
Remembered smiles, laughs,
teasing, playfulness, jokes,
insincere humorous flirtations.
Movies, TV, meals, trips, beer,
fun.
Why?
Broken, swollen, bloody, bruised.
Gone.
Why?
Depressed? Sad? Lonely perhaps?
Dead end, no way out?
Desperation?
But this?
Why?
Son, stepson,
mother, grandmother, aunt,
ME! Weeping.
Why?
No note, no statement, no answers.
Situation understood, but still...
WHY?

I hope he's at peace.

POLT