I'm sitting next to you
At your bedside
In this sterile room
Of a Bronx hospital
Your reasons are gone
And your spirit has departed
Your hand is still warm
Your mouth, still damp
You don't know that I am here
You cannot feel my touch
Hear my voice
Or see my soul
Together we are just waiting
Waiting for you to die

© 2009 David Greg Harth
09.12.02.11:14:00@Greenwall2545UnivBronxNYC