Poem Hunter
Last Walk Of Life

Last Walk Of Life

Poem By Louise Marie DelSanto

It is hard to hear
what you are telling me,
what secrets you hold
from undistracted rigidity
and fluffed up pillows -
Your room is a sanctuary,
a spacious collage
of the last walk of life
and I come to med you,
crushed narcotics
in thick, yellow pudding
and I come to feed you
thru a rubber tube,
a four by four dressing,
attached to your belly -
Like a frightened animal
you solemnly retreat
'I am dying, you tell me, '
yellowed skin
muted by parched lips and sunken eyes
I want to stop this walk of death
I want to scream the lessened
dignity of a man in diapers,
bed sores that will not heal,
and a small televison on all night.

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Comments (1)

This is a sensitive and powerful poem. Good writing