I wrote this poem over and over in my head for almost two years. I did not write it down on paper until this past August. I was with my mother, holding her hand, staring into her eyes and telling her that I loved her and will never stop loving her and will never forget her. Mom was minutes away from dying, and although I tried preparing myself for her death by reading everything I possibly could about the process of dying, it did not soften the blow.
Death’s Reality
Decrease in blood pressure…
Who will stop the pain
As it continues to rain?
Our Lord.
Irregular breathing stop/start…
Who will stop the burning tears
As it continues the fears?
Our Lord.
Eyes glassy tearing, half open…
Who will stop the sadness
As it continues like madness?
Our Lord.
Pulse weak, hard to find…
Who will stop the anger
As it continues only to danger?
Our Lord.
Cannot be awakened…
Who will stop the grief
As it continues to destroy our belief.
Our Lord.
“Bless those who know not what another day will bring.”
Deborah Ann Tornillo
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