The smell of life
is drowning into a pool of void.
Closer, death comes, everyday to say "hello you".
The body changes, the taste, the smell, sour and mingeled-
I can taste your decay, swallow my fears with a hard, ragged choke.
For you, I cannot pave a path of spirit, god knows I tried.
I cannot help you with your fears, when you give them no voice.
I do not live in denial, I cannot hold your hand down that road, my friend.
I just stand and watch you struggle to breathe, wondering, hoping, is this the last one?
I get angry. I get sick. Yes, I get angry. Be strong. Die with dignity. Allow those who you love, help. I feel so sorry for you, as you trust not one.
Your world shrinks day by day, breath by breath.
There will come a time, soon, your last gasp, your last exhalation.....then, you will finally be free.
Apr 17, 2013
The Smell of Life
About This Poem
Last Few Words: I am the caregiver for my father-in-law who is in his final stages of copd. I have been doing this for almost three years. He is very difficult.
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction:
How was my language use?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Hi :)
I really liked your poem the only suggestion I could make was to shorten the lines and break it up into stanzas, at the moment its leaning towards prose
I think you have a winner with this poem it just needs a few tweaks
sincerely Jayne-Chloe
thanx, i thought so too. it
thanx, i thought so too. it has been years since Ihave written anything, other than my journal. I did find my old poems, before neopoet crashed.
I like where you are going.
I like where you are going. Look forward to the edit
8
Dina grey
The struggle in defiance of that last journey is hard, that you have been there is beyond words.
Try not to listen with the ear, but listen with the mind, in there is a glow that is protected yet can give out all anyone needs..
I will ask one of my helpers to be there with you, and in asking they are there..
That you have all the emotions floating around you is natural as it is a hard part of the journey to help with and he knows how much you do.
Take care of you, later we can advise on an edit to help the poem but with this one there is plenty of time yet..
I look forward to your other wrires, Yours Ian.T
Ah, you are NeoPoet alumni.
I am "post" crash, so my PM reflected that ignorance. Therefore, Welcome back.
I agree with Seren's suggestion to clip the lines. Not the content per se, but they read too easily as prose with their length. A few judicious "line breaks" can solve that.
My family has Huntington's Chorea (I am 53 and symptom free, but my sister is beginning that long road). I held my mother for twenty years of worsening condition until she left me. I know from whence you speak... anger, hope for an end, hope the end doesn't come...
I do not pity you, but pity is what I feel. I cannot be helped.
I know where you are.
Talk to me if it will aid in any way.