He lies in turmoil and little pain.
His days are numbered with not much of a brain.
His body is tired and weak.
He really cannot speak.
The illness eats away through his mind.
And makes him numb and not so kind.
He doesn't remember who he is.
A man near death but not to wish.
Some days are better then others.
From one moment to another.
His mind is slipping away
From day to day.
He doesn't eat or drink
And it hurts him to think.
He will lie in this hospital til his dying day.
When he finally let's go, he will be okay.
©terrylin53
T