SPEECHLESS
The monocorde sound of the machine makes the waiting more desperate, the beats are getting weaker, the numbers of the monitor, descend. They turn off the machine, the monitor is set to 0. All is over. Parents touch and caress knowing it is the last time. The small body too still, warm, let the soul escape. They will not see it anymore, they will not hear it anymore, they will not kiss it anymore, they will not hug it anymore. Yesterday yes, no today, and never. The human mind will never understand.
© Patricia Picardi, March, 2016.
The monocorde sound of the machine makes the waiting more desperate, the beats are getting weaker, the numbers of the monitor, descend. They turn off the machine, the monitor is set to 0. All is over. Parents touch and caress knowing it is the last time. The small body too still, warm, let the soul escape. They will not see it anymore, they will not hear it anymore, they will not kiss it anymore, they will not hug it anymore. Yesterday yes, no today, and never. The human mind will never understand.
© Patricia Picardi, March, 2016.
Yes, one gets speechless for the massive emotion in this situation.
ResponderEliminarIt's my personal experience of losing my eight-year-old son in a car accident. Thanks for reading my poems and I'm glad you like it. Greetings.
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