The Drive to Iowa

It wasn’t my role—it never is,
To chase a thread through miles like this.
But the man was fading, breath by thread,
And hope was barely hanging, spread.

The doctors said, “There’s nothing left,”
The family wept, the room felt cleft.
But I had read, and something sparked—
A drug out there, obscure, unmarked.

No courier, no time to ship,
Just urgency and tightening grip.
So I took the keys, and hit the road,
With silent prayers my only code.

Through rain and cornfields, silent miles,
I chased the hope behind faint smiles.
To Iowa, through rain and fog,
To fight the clock and cheat the dog.

The warehouse stood quiet, bare,
But someone waited, knowing care.
They handed over life in glass,
A fragile chance, a fleeting pass.

Back I flew with hands so tight,
Through Iowa dark and Minnesota night.
We dosed him fast, we watched, we stayed—
And still… the shadows didn’t fade.

He passed with hands held, soft and slow,
No miracle, no final glow.
But someone tried beyond the chart,
And maybe that still touched his heart.

I couldn’t save him—wasn’t mine—
But I gave all, crossed every line.
For love of life, for sacred try,
I drove through silence just to cry.

So here’s to all who fight like flame,
For one more hour, one more name.
Even when the end won’t bend,
We drive for hope… right to the end.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.