Death March

Cold light fills my room
Hurting my eyes with the clinical glare
The white coats and candy stripes flash by my open door
Seeming deaf to my calls for simple compassion
And companions to pass the time with
None will say what I feel in my bones
My time is running short and since they can't help me
They ignore me instead
My breath runs short in my lungs
As hard to breathe out as in
And my body is growing tired from the efforts
And still I feel the urge to smoke
What a fool I was
And am
The man in the bed across the room
Has been unconscious since they rolled me in
And I have only the myriad sounds of his machines
To keep me company
I'm sad for him and me and every other inmate
In this cold prison of the dying
And long to run free
Ha!
As if I could run
Sadness overwhelms