“I’m done crying.” 

The eyes professed: to us, grandma, God — everyone who failed him.

“Send your prayers. Tell the family these docs got no answers.”

Decades of broken promises mocking unbroken pain. The life before belonged to a stranger.

He scorned us, denied our touch: “Because you get to go home. And I’ll be here dying.

“55 word poem, initially published in Pulse”