I wonder if I will ever get back on my bikes
free to ride wherever I like
living with arthritis is a constant pain
I do hope I get to ride again
luckily I can write to fill my time
put some cycling photography into rhyme
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not permit AI to use my work.
She pierces me
with sharpened steel
and twists the bloody bayonet
I push away to escape with my life
I spin I thrash I turn and writhe
such familiar pain I feel
when once again my wife
confused demented lashes out
with her disorientated knife
God it hurts
to see you like this
weak and in pain
in so much distress
god it hurts
to feel you so thin
to feel your bones
where there should be fat skin
god it hurts
to wipe your pale face
to touch your cold hands
to massage your aches
god it hurts
to feed you my love
to nurse and relieve you
in plastic gloves
god it hurts
to bathe you each day
to wash your soiled body
no, I won’t go away
god it hurts
to roll you over
your strength is gone
you, my past lover
god it hurts
to see you waste
your senses fading
losing smell and taste
god it hurts
to sit by your bed
as this sickness progresses
it fills me with dread
god it hurts
to hear what you said
in your delerium
it hurts so bad
god it hurts
when you get pressure sores
you no longer move
can you take anymore?
god it hurts
when the pain relief fails
when you grimace and seize
wracked frame so frail
god it hurts
but not how it hurts you
I wish I could do more
to help you get through
god it hurts
when you don’t talk back
your eyes are dull
your jaw is slack
god it hurts
to watch your last breaths
to see your life leave us
replaced by death
god it hurts
holding you dead
your skeletal frame
with me alone on the bed
god it hurts
to kiss you good bye
on your dry cracked blue lips
last kiss, last cry?
poetography.ink 