Death

She is dying,
they say
aren't we all
I ask
they shoot me looks
asking me to
only talk when
absolutely necessary
She's dying
they say again
as if none of us
knew before
as if this is all
sudden and
shocking
even though
it's not
we await this news
patiently
since the day we are born
if it's not him
it will be her
or maybe someone else
either way
we are all going
and we can accept this
during those moments
between
dying and death
but when the clock strikes
a particular hour
when there is simply
no more life
the fear
the denial
we don't want to go
for death,
unknown to us,
it robs us of everything
most of all,
of what we love the most,
life