I’m sitting next to you

At your bedside

In this sterile room

Of a Bronx hospital

Your reasons are gone

And your spirit has departed

Your hand is still warm

Your mouth, still damp

You don’t know that I am here

You cannot feel my touch

Hear my voice

Or see my soul

Together we are just waiting

Waiting for you to die

© 2009 David Greg Harth

09.12.02.11:14:00@Greenwall2545UnivBronxNYC