plugged in Plans. spent the entire Mother's Day in the ICU. my godfather fell down and slipped into a coma. alongside his high blood pressure and kidney problem, his chances are pretty slim. I looked at him lying on the bed, frail, gasping, struggling for every breath while I took mine for granted. the constant beeps on the machines and silent whispers.
And it came to me then
That every plan
Is a tiny prayer to father time
As I stared at my shoes
In the ICU
That reeked of piss and 409
As each descending peak
On the LCD
Took you a little farther away from me
Away from me
Amongst the vending machines
And year old magazines
In a place where we only say goodbye
It sung like a violent wind
That our memories depend
On a faulty camera in our minds
And I looked around
At all the eyes on the ground
As the TV entertained itself
Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room
Just nervous paces bracing for bad news
And then the nurse comes round
And everyone lifts their head
But I'm thinking of what Sarah said
that love is watching someone die.
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