The Unmade Choice Poem by Christopher Cofield

I never got the chance to see you for the last time
Sitting in that corridor on the little wooden bench
I wasn't allowed a final goodbye
I miss you to this day - my father

Sitting in that corridor on the little wooden bench
Heart in hand, drowning from the tears welling up inside
I miss you to this day - my father
I older now then you were when you died

Heart in hand, drowning from the tears welling up inside
The antiseptic smell of the hospital
I older now then you were when you died
I work too hard, eat poorly, have hypertension like you did

The antiseptic smell of the hospital
It still lingers in the olfactory senses
I work too hard, eat poorly, have hypertension like you did
How long the road on this journey through life

It still lingers in the olfactory senses
The smell of death on your going home day
How long the road on this journey through life
I know that I will see you again one day

The smell of death on your going home day
I wasn't allowed a final goodbye
I know that I will see you again one day
I never got the chance to see you for the last time