My Hospital

December 17, 2008
By Barry Altmark, Hewlett, NY

Cut me open,
Take my heart,
Hands tremble with full force.
My hospital,
Is filled,
With the sounds of bleak remorse.

Words unspoken,
Death's fine art,
This cancer kills me too.
My hospital,
Is chilled,
Old prescriptions, overdue.

Grim diagnosis,
My hypnosis,
Puts you in a trance.
What’s my prognosis?
How precocious,
Reaper’s cold romance.

This disease, In due course,
Will take my love away.
I’ll grab and squeeze,
Time try to seize,
Beg and even pray.

Make it me, I beg, I plea, my ritual’s begun.
It’s over now, unholy vow, no battle has been won.
Angel of death, with one breath, make sure the deed is done.
The time has come, my body’s numb, Death answers to none.


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