Verdict Poem by Rickardo BecklesBurrowes

Hearing words of patient reality
seeing odd cards and diagrams detailing a detached new life;
where is the beauty, the desire in this disease
in these empty, hollow moments
calling upon the earth, calling upon the air - whispering,
Why me? Why now? What now? Where now?
Though it doesn't matter, not now
not here-here, emptied deeply, quickly-dying every time.
No waking from such dark places -
alone, in silent horror with innocent memories watching on.