three days of
intermittent sleep
depressed, restless
losing her grip on reality
she shivers as
she moves into
a fetal position
she glances at the
clock on the wall
in her hospital room
the hands motionless
only a prayer
could save her now
she slips one hand
underneath her pillow
clutching her rosary
and the hands on
the clock move
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem