Waiting

    Waiting



    As time grows short with her breathing, she longs for one thing



    An embrace, a touch, a gentle word to tell her it will be okay



    A laugh, even a cough would be welcomed, so she did not feel so alone



    But the nurses are busy; her family far away and the hustle and bustle of the nursing home is stifled by the closed door.



    So, alone she lies in her bed, waiting for death while life goes on around her.