Watch and Listen (Uncontious), by Convalescence
|
I listen to the sounds of those around me.
All simple words with tenancy to blurr.
I listen to the happiness surround me,
affecting me from wence it occurs.
I watch the people move all around me,
but don't understand what's happening.
A steady blurr is all that I can see,
and I really don't know how things do seem.
They talk some more in words I cannot hear,
and their painful voices seem to drift away.
Their voices seem so very near,
but my eyes have slipped closed with the day.
When I awake, the voices I'm still hearing,
and the faces I can still barely see.
My uncontiousness still seems to linger,
until I realize that they talk of me.
I listen to the words that they are speaking,
and catch a phrase that makes me want to cry.
The joy is greater than-I guess-it would seem,
but their words were "She isn't going to die."
|
Posted: 2010-02-10 12:55:36 UTC |
This poem has no votes yet. | To vote, you must be logged in.
|
To leave comments, you must be logged in.
2010-02-15 02:44:27 | Mystic me |
Beautifully put! |