Zak Poem by Elia Michael

It seems the time has come for him to die
He lies there in his bed, his eyes are closed
And all the time I hear his painful sigh;
I try but it is hard to be composed.
His body writhes responding to the pain
And sweaty beads adorn his greyish skin;
They mark his pillow with a moisture stain.
I look at him, he is so old and thin;
He's old beyond his years, disease does this;
This dread disease destroys his life, his hope;
Destroying bonds of friendship which I'll miss,
And I am left to wonder how I'll cope.
But I'll remember that you were my friend
and reminisce about you till the end.