At thirty days there is no sign, I have not moved yet.
You pray, you cry, you walk away, our schedule has been set.
Prayers for my recovery have changed for my demise
You’re tired, I get it, but you just don’t realize
I hear you; I feel you, your touch, your breath, your scent
All of your visits you don’t know at all what they have meant!
If I could go, I would leave you now your waiting would finally end
But you hooked me up to this machine hoping I would mend!
A year goes by and then year two, my vitals always stable
Your tears no longer fall for me, no mercy for this vegetable.