There's a horrifying creak that grows more brittle in unwelcome and unkind time.
It's ripping apart at each ablated site and teases my mind with the end of my time.

Muffled through my chest are groans, exhausted, weak, and flooding with pain.
No one does realize, and I won't tell a soul, that one ghost pump could mark my final day.

It's a blessing to wake up and think, because it means you still know you're alive.
So take advantage of all the ways to twist your brain and exercise your mind's inclines.

It's a blessing to see, taste, touch, and smell; so, experience the earth while you still can.
Spectate, listen, and taste foods so divine.
Use your words to spread love and embrace being kind.

Hold your loved ones tight with every blessed "good morning" and hopeful "goodnight".
Because one day, you won't even know that you're gone, while the rest learn to live altered lives.



Wednesday 4 June 2025