Doctors played your dosage like a card-trick
Scrabbled down the hallways yelling, Yahtzee!
I brought books on Hopper, and the Arctic
Something called The Politics of Lonely
A toothbrush and a quick-pick with the plus
You tried not to roll your sunken eyes
You said, Hey can you help me, I can't reach it
And pointed at the camera in the ceiling
I climbed up, blocked it so they couldn't see
Turned to find you out of bed and kneeling
Before the nurses came, took you away
I stood there on a chair and watched you pray