Life in Technicolor – Part III
By Brandon Palzkill
Beep… beep…
Beep… beep…
Day in, day out,
the sound gets driven
into his troubled brain,
refusing to be ignored,
but continuously pounding
in his ears,
unceasing; unhinging.
Stuck in a spinning room,
a heavy weight presses down
on his struggling chest,
as he gasps for air.
He’s weak; very weak,
barely able to get out of bed,
and all he can do
is watch the electric blue
medicine,
seeping through his IV.
Drip… drip…
Drip… drip…
He’s trapped,
tethered by the rubber tube
tapped into his veins.
A prisoner in his bed,
a hostage of his own body,
all seems hopeless
as the sweet, refreshing
breath of freedom
looms miles beyond his grasp.
He wants to get out;
he’s been there long enough;
he needs to be better…
He wishes, with all his heart,
to get out of that room
and go out into the
sunshine, once again;
to leave the foreboding
machines behind him.
Beep… beep…
Beep… beep…
He thinks, most of all,
about the girl who waits for him.
His friend, his confidant,
his most welcome visitor
during this time of illness.
She quickly turns up
with sad eyes and a kind heart,
and they find solace
in each other’s company.
He shares his hopes
and she shares hers,
all else is ignored;
his sickness, her parents;
completely forgotten,
for as long as they
can make it so.
Tick… tick…
Tick… tick…
Late is the hour;
visitors must leave.
She departs with a sorrowful
smile,
promising to return.
He, in turn,
makes a promise of his own;
the coming day,
when she need not return;
he will come to her
and all will be well.
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