Cancer (Part3) - Poem by Michael. fanniesson
I’d like to go to Arizona maybe Nevada
sit on the desert floor look at the mountains
and all that sky pray, no doubt cry,
tell God I’m sorry beg his forgiveness
for all the bad things I’ve done.
Even if it’s too late to make any difference,
but I’m no hypocrite, even if I’m finding
reasons to believe now.
After all, it could be the meds,
the flow of endorphin to the brain,
causing me to think like this.
So I’ll just settle for this hospital bed,
a morphine drip, my wife’s hand,
and that priest that comes around,
once he finds out you’re catholic,
and you ain’t got long!
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