"God willing, she'll
make it through"
Hand holding--
sterilized stations
and a Doctor with a
mouthfull of bad news.
White teeth spilling
so much black
at you, flak and
noise and nothing
really gets past
the words
"I'm sorry"
Seventy-two year old
eyes look
expectantly at the
man in white,
knowing full well that
this wasn't supposed
to happen,
and not for one second
believing that it did.
minutes counted
by the choking sensation
in the back of
her throat.
ushered inside a room-
everything a machine.
white walls, white floor,
white face
with a faint bruise
a defiant last stand
with the pretense
of moving blood
"that's not my baby.
my baby's still got
a ticktock heart"
but what the white
lab coat tried to
explain with
his mechanized mouth-
warm tears won't make
the body less cold,
"and we need more
room for the living"
the very next room,
with white walls and
white floors:
"Well,
God willing..."
In a list
A contest entry
- anti-dreams by unraveled.
750 points, ended December 18, 2008, 21 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
lemme know what you think.
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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wow. this is phenomenal... congrats on the gold.
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you deserved the gold!
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im also crazyjealous. this was great. a little rushed. but fantastic.
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This made me remember things I didn't want to.
Excellent writing.
-
I got shivers.
This is quite well done, I loved it. Pretty much exactly what i was looking for.
Eep the shivers are still there.
The truth of it is almost overwhelming.
Thank you for entering,
-cassidy
Adding your comment:
1 - 5 of 5
