The last

September 11, 2008
it rolled like thunder,
and struck like lightning attacking one spot at a time.
places on the body infected.
therapy starts as the sickness gets worse.
days, weeks, and months go by,
hair drops like rain.
only young the body could not help her fight it off.
buckets full of tears is all that is left.
i stare at an empty hospital bed where she use to lay.
the world empty of one less person.
we did all we could, but it wasn't good enough.
the years spent with her,
the months in hospitals,
the weeks of her smile, the days of her laughter,
the last minute of her being here,
and the last seconds...she's gone.

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