Final Call Poem by Matt Bennett

So my days are done and the nights are cold,
Howling winds bring haunting cries so old.
My body withers as I beg you to go,
But my disease is rooted for all to know.

The stars show and my eyes close,
Tempting to check just how my blood flows.
I'm tired of this life and all its lies,
It's taken too long and still I can't see to the skies.

Flood waters tremble my rotted home,
And as I break my pieces fall like stone.
My eyes cloud up as my tears fall,
I write this to you and make my final call.