“I am in the room again.
Heavy heaves come from the machine,
that help make perfect breaths.
Your voice is soft, your hands are warm,
and I see less life than yesterday.
Tears come from my parents eyes and I
I can’t cry.
Yes, my voice is blocked and my eyes burn
But I can’t cry.

Your world isn’t bigger than this tiny room.
The sun won’t shine on your face again.

Your kids are here.
They all came to see you.
It hurts to see them say
goodbye while you sleep.
I can only watch.
I try to put on a brave face.
I still can’t cry.

Tears don’t come to say
how much I miss you already.”

A.V.