Bones Poem by Win Gray

He was skin and bones when I last saw him
And to think he used to have flesh
The sight of his ribs, good God, his ribs
He was no longer a man but a breathing corpse
Groaning, agony, the undying pain in his cancer-eaten bones
He lies on his bed a living skeleton
Craving human companionship
Though, afraid of human touch
He longs for visitors, familiar faces
To give him love and support
But most of all food and water

He cannot move himself
So his saintly neighbour puts him in diapers
So he doesn't continue to lie in filth
Livid, he spits on his sorrowful condition
And pees on his former life, the realization
That all he has is a gentle lady trying to help a living dead
Lord have mercy, crick, crack, his neck bone went
As she tried to move him to freshen him up
‘Desist from touching him! ' my consciousness shouted silently
Good God, he's being broken to pieces
His locks a heavy burden on his head
Putting pressure on his frail and tired limbs
What a body! What a life!

Depression is now his mentor and pain his caretaker
The injections, the tablets, his enemies
He cries out to the Most High when his pain becomes unbearable
I weep in my heart for Rasta
Once an articulate man
A powerful man
A visionary
A health conscious man
An athlete
A prolific writer
An entrepreneur
A womanizer
All he used to be will live on after he's gone
The pain rocked his bones once more
He let out a thunderous shriek and beseeched us to leave
His pain was the only apology I needed
I said my farewell, his agony I refuse to witness again
Oh goodness gracious
I still can't believe, he was skin and bones when I last saw him
And to think he once had flesh.