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Gramma


By jamesaguiar - Posted on 22 January 2010

Her life evolves from day to day
in the same kindless, relentless way.
She lies in pain barely remembering her name
while her wretched, twisted, broken frame
chokes with each small movement's pain.
She cries to God to make it stop,
but he will not,
but he will not.
Despite all this she accepts her lot
with quiet dignity-that's all she's got.
One day she knows she will at last be free
even as she begged of me
to help her pass through death's door.
(I can stand and watch-I can do no more)
I can only hope that as she passes beyond
that a measure of peace will be found
for her, for us, for eternity's many
who will give the boatman his blasted penny.

 

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