Tough it is as I wait
48 hours critical
alarms
crash carts
ventilators
fever
blood pressures
vomiting
bleeding
Why is this angel laying here beside me?
Pale skin, long raspy breathing
gurgles building
gasping
body trembles
I scream
Her skin heated
not by passion
but by deaths undertaker
Hold on Tory
Fight
Please, God, Fight.
Clock loudly ticks
each minute seems a hour
Tears falling
eyes sink
lips quiver
she feathers off
sleep claiming her
another 33 hours and a half
Will that be her destination?
Forward Tory, march
my hand is out, reach it
I throw in my name-tag
my uniform
my stethescope and all
just to have tonight
here by your side
tomorrow,
the next day
and the ones after…
Grip on Tory,
Fight, my Angel, Fight
Prove them docs wrong
48 will not be the end
but a
new beginning.
Author notes
This is for Passionspromise, a wonderful poet and friend. She struggles for life the next 48 hours. They dont expect her to pull through, but Torys favorite words of late, "Don't ever count me out! Until I tell you I am out." She said " I shall conquer the flames of evils fire, and walk on with the power of One.
I love you Tory, Please Girl, Fight. We need you here. We love you.
Comments
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This is absolutely a great piece.
YOU ARE A POET.
And I see Scott came to visit how nice.
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Nicely done and said Candace. I am sure she will enjoy the fact that you are writing poetry for her this time. Scott
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