Loss and Clipboards by Christopher Ricther

*snap*

Upon the board are papers clipped.

A date, a name, a note, no time.

For ticks passed by are one less breath,

to save their life from grasps of death.

*snap*

Brought comfort though the pain is great.

New orders written, bottles filled.

More papers added to the fold,

as fate begins to grab ahold.

*snap*

Amidst the fight we lost ourselves.

Caregivers with less to give.

There’s haunted visions of an empty bed.

A few last papers are the words unsaid.

*snap*

Bold colors faded to white and grey.

No fight is left for the struggle’s lost.

Their heart gave out, I hear no tap.

AN EMPTY CLIPBOARD,

I HEAR IT SNAP.