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Paul Bower Poem
Death comes fast to those who wait,
Looking for life at the Pearly Gate.
Moping around with much time to spare,
Complaining how life just isn’t fair.
Yes death comes fast to those who wait,
Living their lives just a little too late.
Running behind and never on time.
They consider life their only crime.
Death comes fast for those who wait,
Sitting alone while they reflect on fate.
Contemplating the past and how they failed,
Feeling like a train that has been derailed!
As they wait for death to come,
Realizing death comes faster for some!
Copyright © Paul Bower | Year Posted 2007
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Paul Bower Poem
Palms sweaty as I wait, and wait.
Time moving ever faster it seems.
The ticks turning into tocks at a rapid rate.
Time never slows when you want it to the most.
A half an hour passes by in what seems like minutes.
The nurses appear with their weapons of choice.
Two needles I see that I presume are for me.
They explain what their doing, but I already know.
I turn away as not to see the I.V. sliding into my hand.
Slower and slower it inches, and more and more it hurts.
I look down to see the blood running from the I.V. to my fingertips The nurses
leave and the doctor takes over.
I’m put on the gurney to await my fate.
As we roll on I can only see the lights above.
But soon everything I heard, the phones, the people, all sound just dies.
All I hear is the pounding of my heart replacing the tick of time.
I feel myself being pushed through doors and I know I’m getting closer.
Now I can hear the lights buzzing as if to be laughing at me.
As we enter the surgical room, I smell a very sterile smell like no other.
A smell that begins to numb my mind as well as my body.
The room isn’t cold but my body begins to tremble.
The doctor puts something in my I.V. and sais this will calm me down.
Within seconds I’m in the air floating around and looking down at them.
Then another thing is injected into my I.V. Count to 100 they say.
1….2…and then everything is over.
I leave the room the way I came, but in a very different perspective.
I hear the doctor and my father discussing that my tonsils are now out.
The surgery went fine. Moments later I lie down and look at the time.
As I glance at the clock AI realize that time had once again tricked me.
For what felt as if it were several hours truly ended up being just one.
Copyright © Paul Bower | Year Posted 2007
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Details |
Paul Bower Poem
She lies in the bed helpless.
Nothing I say or do can help her.
Motionless waiting for the inevitable.
As she wakes she uses all her energy.
Her pale face showing no emotion. Being stoic.
Chapped lips open to mutter a word, but to no avail.
Helpless like an infant, but able to realize,
Realize life support is the only thing keeping her alive.
Pain, suffering, and misery have been bestowed upon her.
What is wrong I plead, but the doctor turns.
Will she live? Tell me now!
He just shakes his head.
No this can’t be,…she cared for me.
I cry myself to sleep, but as I wake I see.
See that she is up, barely conscious.
Don’t leave me I mutter, I need you here.
She puts out a faint smile, but nothing comes out.
Please give me a hint, what can I do?
Why must God take you now?
She looks at me, with one final breath she speaks,
I’ve become old, and my heart has grown weak.
No I plead, you’re still in your prime!
But she lies there, still, lifeless.
I hear the life support going mad,
But I choose to ignore it. She’ll come back.
I grasp her body and slowly hear the heart beat fade,
Just another love that’s succumbed to the inevitable.
Copyright © Paul Bower | Year Posted 2007
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Details |
Paul Bower Poem
Life is a journey that we all shall take,
But this journey depends on the decisions we make.
Do this, do that, it’s all our choice.
Listen to no one, we’re our own voice.
Life is a journey that we all shall take.
A fork in the road that determines our fate.
Choose wisely our path for it’s our lives on the line.
The road that we choose may not hold a helpful sign.
This road we say shall be for the best.
Perhaps this fork is one of lives test’s.
The outcome of our life depends on our decision.
Our future mistakes we can barely envision.
Perhaps this road is best, and should be taken.
We pray for our lives that we aren’t mistaken.
Life is a journey we all will endure.
Live life your way, don’t be unsure.
So look for the signs and we all will learn,
That life all depends on which way we turn.
Copyright © Paul Bower | Year Posted 2007
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