Never Forgotten

He creeps around the house,
Observing but not speaking.
He knows that he is sick, but not too sick to listen.
In his younger days he was the epitome of strength
from the coal mines he would submerge himself in,
he would toil upon endless days that never surrendered.
He never spoke about the seed out of wedlock who
existed across seas, he kept things to himself, always.
until the day she came to find him, leaving us in shock.
Long rides upon country roads, he would tell of things,
as the trunk would squeak, and the gas light blinked, time
would stand still for him, and the breeze would sneak
through the window just to caress his face.
He would tend to his garden, luscious in summer heat, but
that was before he was sick, before he was tired.
Seconds exhausting the little energy left.
Eyes too heavy, he retires early as the sun
fades into the darkness. He knows we whisper and we cry for him,
but our pleas to God go unanswered. Sick, withdrawn, and
hostile, this man pleads to god for the opposite of life.
Dialysis sucks from him all that he has, leaving him to pick himself
off the ground in search of a time where he will be at ease.
Nothing comes easy anymore, not even eating, but this is his
new life, as hard as it is for him to accept it.


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