Standing Here

I stand here at your hospital death bed, so filled with awful, dark fathomless dread; the doctor says to turn off life support. Oh, my sweet mother your life is too short, you are my rock . . . Time is ticking tic-tock, tic-tock, as we all gather around for your last gasp; and your frail hand in mine I tightly clasp. You take a breath, and quietly, softly comes death. I stand here alone in a scary world, wishing I was laying in your arms curled. How will I make it without you with me, to guide me while we are drinking sweet tea; you know me well . . . All life's problems I would weep- tell, and you always knew the answer I sought; with calm patience serenity you taught I feel you here, safe inside my heart- always near. __________________________________ October 14, 2018 Poetry/Rhyme/Standing Here Copyright Protected, ID 18-1071-268-01 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.