Each night I lie next to a medicated pile of self pity
I listen to the snoring
I can feel the turning over and over
Each day, I can see the sadness of health issues that eat her up inside
I can't understand how she came so close to death, healed by the hands of gifted men and God and plays dead anyway
I tell her to pick herself up, join life because each day is a day she will not get back
As she stares at me as though I am a moron, I realize we must speak different languages
Yesterday I was 10, today I am sixty and tomorrow I will be 80
Where did the time go?
If only I could have do over
