She was laid on the hospital gurney
Quiet, eyes closed, no communications
She doesn’t panic and has no fury
She worries all her blood relations

She is taken to the surgery room.
No one would leave the waiting room for days.
The doctor walks out in a burdened gloom.
We stare and wait for what he had to say.

“She did not make it.” The doctor explained
They only confirm to us what is true
“Something was not sanitized,” He complained
Everyone observes her, feeling blue.

She lies on a tabletop as a bed
I stare at my love, crying, now she is dead