Viewing
Thin eyelids seal
the window to his soul.
His cheeks are collapsed,
though once very full.
Make-up covers them,
thick like paint.
He looks so
sick,
breathless,
faint.
Once smiling lips wrinkle down
without tone.
His once strong body's
skin and bone.
He's continually still,
without flowing air.
Wake up, sleeper,
if
you're
there!
Who's this imposter
in this fancy box?
Where is the dad
that I suddenly lost?
Copyright © Juliet Ligon | Year Posted 2014
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