Thinning Blood Poem by Ben Sparaco

The bones in his chest,
A perfect place for these thoughts to rest,
The thinness in his blood,
Makes his tears weld up,
His eyes flood,
He does not see his body as others do,
Skinny no these words can not be true,
Others say how lucky you were to see sweet dawn the other day,
To not eat this is the dark price he must pay,
Passer-byers question why,
The fear for his life in their eye,
The hospital bed so very cold,
Hands of friends he must gently hold,
This I V can not keep him trapped here forever,
To eat no he shall never,
For a while he kept his secret well,
For the choices he made he must now dwell,
The feeling of his bones,
Makes him feel like a king sitting on his throne,
As he lays down in his bed,
He feels something strange in his head,
A feeling came over him terror and dread,
He forever fell asleep,
And blackness was his souls to keep,

COPYRIGHT 2008 BEN SPARACO POEMS