I recall beauty from the days that have passed.
Her presence was needed and work never surpassed.
Almost as if a stranger yet I see her without a day too pass.
I forget the name of her voice because of my frugal tongue.
But it's because shes a nurse, one that fights too get hung.
A quote she made softly one day, "for my father; I never sung."
But the man is dead so her battle lives on.
Living mornings too see days dawn.
I wait patiently; pausing at each moment the floor echoes.
Hoping for her presence too grace my essence.
So that I may move on receiving only benevolence.
She temps insolence, proving too be careless.
But my temperance has a temper and anger in the fairest.
I simply tell her what too do, its her job; its honest.
She delivers remembrance of short conversation.
As if when I talk, she idles me without observation.
A perfect response every-time as if the past meets gentrification.
A future viewer? No, perhaps it's just job dedication.
Im tended too my needs proof of my accomplishments.
Provided a room, food, health and every acknowledgment.
A plentiful of servants, useless at astonishment..
But she is productive; I can vent frustration.
Though feeling as a dictation I only vacant fiction.
I have shame; but I am not worried of confliction.
Never a conviction and only lived in highest of condition.
Why would god strike me down, I have done good; the definition.
Every-night my legs are lifted from chair too bed.
Only too be greeted by thoughts of wanting too meet death.
I am fed thought strings on my own appreciation.
Looking out the window, seeking external mediation.
But it is only by that of silence by my nurses medication.
I try and spark conversation hoping for admiration.
only too see broken aspirations and complication.
"A retirement home, I understand" spoken out loud I gasp as she starts too sob.
Rather making direct contact with my eyes playing broken tunes.
And she delicately presses emotions over mine.
Telling me strange attachments when she's payed to over my mind.
So I tell her...
Please, don't mind; your efforts are for money rather mine.
You wouldn't be here without a paycheck; too me this is a fine.
And she sighs death as my legs are lifted too the bedsides, and wipes her
tears with dry eyes.
The door cracks and before she leave my vision.
Goodnight I tell her; and I could have sworn I heard "I love you."
The door closes and in that instant I recall the crack.
Of everyday she entered and double backed.
I push myself out of bed and crawl feebly into my chair.
I'm ensnared I must see her before i collapse in despair.
Just as I exit the building she nearly opens her car door.
I am succumbed too gravity as a curb sees feeling too floor.
Laying hopeless and defeated I crawl on the asphalt.
She opens her car door and I give a final breath of chance.
A defeated yell blank that no feeling could surpass.
My head gives weight and crashes too the concrete.
Before death is in my wake I hear footsteps not a light.
Im cradled in the enjoying embrace of the one that shares love.
I look beyond the eyes and see a reflection.
Not a question but answer I would like too address.
My last words on this planet were a plea not a confess.
"I remember."
She looks back,
"Ill remember, the days; you sang for me."
I leave my body as an admitted narcissist;
Knowing an Alzheimer patient requires patience; sometimes a lie.
Because only because of it, I am redeemed unto the sky.
Happy birthday guys, getting fucked up tomorrow!
1 of the reasons for a late show, on molly and brew for about 3 days now.
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Objective yeeee! lol some sketch shit if I had waited 1 more day I woulda been in the emergency room on some bubble shit...
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King Keith 3/9 is the voting deadline or 4/9?