My Death
My back is achingThe earth is quacking
It signals my demise
Mother earth, so wise
My chest, it heaves
My lungs hardly breathe
My heart is tired
Surgery is required
The doctor is late
The pain is great
He opens my breast
Uses hands to test
It seems it's time
For my final rhyme
My brain shuts down
Poetry by Paul Vermette
Read 517 times
Written on 2008-03-29 at 17:19
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