Terminally ill

by Professor Leskinen   Mar 8, 2018

My fever is getting worse and my headache won't stop tiring me,
My heart rates and sanity both on dangerous levels.
I'm not allowed to eat or drink, and frankly, I can't feel the need either at this point.
I haven't slept in months, and time ticks slowly every day.

Next to me, others, thousands sick people
Many are at the glimpse of dying - some of them being my friends.
The doctors announce that those who get better in 3 months will have a lifesaving surgery,
The rest will most likely live with the pain, until the grim reaper relieves us from it.

My family, hearing the news, visits me,
"Get better! We cannot afford the bills, if you fail then you're on your own" they say.
They stare at me, to yell at me when I attempt to catch my breath.
They remind me that my life's at stake, as if they have a timer set already.

"You just have to endure it for those 3 months", they say, but it doesn't give me courage,
Instead it reminds me that the pain will be there for at least that much longer.
I just want it all to end- someone, please, end it right now,
Give me a magic pill, or a bullet to my head, and I'll give you everything I own.


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