Cold Hand

That moment 
you walk 
into your 
patient's room 
and she's 
visibly dead... 

And the 
granddaughter 
who is holding 
her hand 
looks at you  
and mouths 
"help me" 
through tears... 

And you 
realize that 
she's been 
holding her 
dead grandma's 
cold hand for 
twenty minutes 
while the 
rest of 
her family 
chats in 
the corner... 

Because she 
just didn't know 
how to tell them.
by Categories: My PoetryTags: , , , , , , 22 Comments

22 thoughts on “Cold Hand”

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