The Voice Of The Dying Poem by chris schwartz

They sit in the Bleachers
Watching the win.
It makes them smile
If only, for a little while.
Doesn't really matter
If their team
Scores a goal.
They just know,
That it's a temporary fix
For all that is soon
To Become.
The stairs to the gateway,
They get harder to climb,
The mind is still willing,
But the body has long
Since shifted,
Giving way to the creaks
And cackles of life.
Still, they coward,
To the cries of another.
To save, is to be saved,
Or since they were told,
But they don't believe,
In the words
Of the other.
Kind words
Come from the planet
You visit,
Saying You can do
Anything that you choose.
(To do for others.)
The really kind heart
In life,
Lets the choice
Of those who know
Drift silently,
And in peace,
To the other dimension.
Even if their heart
Skips a beat,
When they don't see
Us breathing.