End

He looks at clock hands moving

On his wrist a broken watch

Running out of precious time

About to lose his fading mind

Lose the will he needs to find

A way to keep from going blind

The doctor says

“He’s stabilizing”

meters beeping fluids drain

The road beneath rebels with friction

Feeding him a grim prediction

Ending in a contradiction

Seconds fade to minutes

Blood drips on the scrubs

“We can still save him”

Coldly stated calculation

Succumbing to the sweet sedation

Embrace the so-called degradation

Kept alive on life support

He lives inside his racing head

Afraid to pull the plug

Afraid to see the end

M.H. Bones

Author's Note

I think of how my life may end some days. In a car crash, murder, or foolishness perhaps.