Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2013
As I sit here,
on the cold bed,
with paper crinkling underneath,
I realize that I do not care if I die.
As I think through,
the possible diseases,
on the long list of ones I may have,
I realize that I do not care,
but am mostly just *******,
because they are inconvenient.
And that is why I am scared to hear
my doctors response.
alyson
Written by
alyson  hell
(hell)   
595
   Mizanur Rahaman
Please log in to view and add comments on poems