PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Each day I lay, in this place

Surrounded by my thoughts

Without a way, to move or speak

While my body slowly rots

Every single day and night

I pray to meet my death

Curse this vile, tube and pump

Forcing into me, my breathe

If I could only disconnect

This tube that pumps my air

I’d gladly leave, this earthly Hell

To liberate, my pained despair

No bonds would hold me back                                                                        

My soul would be set free

And soaring up, to heaven’s gate

I’d be let in, by Thee

BOEMS BY JA 520