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Dec 2014
I’m trying to find the words,
To describe just how I feel.
What once flowed so easily from my lips…
Now I find it hard to even kneel.

Am I talking to empty space?
Now I’m not so sure you care.
That is, if you’re even listening.
If you’re really even there.

Is this how Christ felt?
When you turned away from your son?
I don’t understand why I feel so alone.
Please God tell me what I’ve done!

My body is crumbling around me.
My mind is starting to fade.
The only visitors I ever see,
Are the nurses and the maid.

I know that I am dying.
My time on this earth is through.
But I’m not so sure I’m “going home”.
Or that I’ll soon kneel there before you.

I want to find the darkness,
That says I’ll soon be dead.
But nurse gives me some “happy pills”.
To keep me in the bed.

Instead I’ll close my eyes,
And let myself pass on.
It isn’t like I really matter…
…no one will miss me when I’m gone.
Inspired by a heart wrenching conversation I had with a hospice patient.
Sara Beth Cannon
Written by
Sara Beth Cannon  Virginia
(Virginia)   
  744
       pia, Life, Paula Burgio, Rebecca Jones and Kyle Dunsky
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