Here I lay,
Still in my bed.

Here I lay—
Can’t get up to eat my
Food for the day.

Here I lay,
Seeing it through till the end of the day.


And there I lay,
My eyelids closed
In troubled dismay.

And the more I sleep,
The less I eat,
And the less I dream.




Here I lay,
An empty sack of bones.


They bring me food—
Force it down my throat,
And nothing comes of it.



And they don’t realize that this bag of bones
Is slowly suffocating
And suffering


Under the comfort of the bedsheets.