As I sit here, amongst the dying;
I look upon you, a soul; just surviving,
You ask of me to spare you pain,
My brother that quest to me is vain…

I look at you, a “machine” within my view
A thing to fix whilst I review;
Those facts of LIFE as bears on me,
A life is gone… who was to blame?

I bear my pain, my deepest fault…
I knew not how to bring you home…
A soul who begged my earthly gift,
A gift not mine to give at all…

I lived and loved your life,
I lived and bore the pain we shared,
I still remain in pain,
Living your Life, my brother,
Until the day I die…
©Bruce K. Melson
2002

Response: Helping Hands by T. P. Woodfork