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Jul 2015
"There is no saving him,"*
the doctor mumbled as he cleaned his glasses,
I could almost see him choosing
what he would have for his lunch
as he glanced eagerly at his watch,
watching the seconds tick as my response delayed
him from his freedom.

Seconds that ticked
as he passed away,
taking most of me with him.
Cíara McNamara
Written by
Cíara McNamara  Ireland
(Ireland)   
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