Class of 2017
I hate the way some people die
When no one’s there to scream or cry
I hate the way they die alone
As I stand nearby, face turned to stone
I know I can’t cry when they die
I shouldn’t feel this. It isn’t right.
They tell me off whenever I do
I must be strong. I can’t cry, too.
I mustn’t fall apart, they say,
As they turn their heads and look away
We’re all pretending not to cry
But shouldn’t someone, when a patient dies?
I hate the way she said to me
“Doctor, help me. I can’t breathe.”
I hate the way I stood by the door
And watched until she breathed no more
I felt my heart break a million times
Because no one else was there to cry
And when they came to take her away
I dried my eyes, and went on with my day
I hate the way I always run late
I hear them whining about the wait
I hate the way they roll their eyes
And call my excuses blatant lies
But I know that deep behind their sighs
Is innocence — they didn’t see her die
And I am glad that they don’t know
Just how some die here, all alone
And they don’t see the tears I hold back
Because of the “courage” and “strength” that I lack
…but if I’m alone on the day that I die
Do you think somebody will pause there, and cry?