February 22, 2018
By Anonymous

Hospital machines beep,
Reminding us that nothing is the same.
It’s not okay, he’s not okay.
He looks so comfortable,
As if he’s sleeping.
It almost had me fooled,
Almost, not quite.
I can see he’s breathing,
Barely, in and out,
His chest rising

                       and falling.

I walk over and take his hand,         shaking,
Thinking of the good times, the good memories.
I’m so young. I shouldn’t be doing this.
I shouldn’t be as terrified as I am.
It’s time to go,             I’m leaving now.
I squeeze, waiting.
Nothing. No squeeze back.
I whisper I love you more as I leave.
The phone rings. It’s the call we’d been dreading.
“He’s passed,” they say.
“He’s in a better place.”
I don’t understand.
The tears stream down my face
as hot as the sun.
The bouquet says more.
I sit and read it over and over again
I feel my heart shattering
like a broken mirror...
I can hear him,
My grandpa saying I love you

The author's comments:

When I was 6 my grandpa passed away at the hospital. This was extremely hard for me because he was a major part of my life. When he passed, I was upset for a long time. This poem describes how this impacted my life and how I reacted to the situation.

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