Perspective.

As low moans and shrill shrieks pierce the halls,

The apathetic staff ignore their calls.

Vomit and feces thicken the air,
The scent clings closely, a cloak of despair.

I didn't recognize her sitting alone--
Skeletal and sad, flesh sagged over bone.

Thinning hair and rotting teeth
Adorn her body, no spirit beneath.

Her glazed eyes stared blankly at me,
She wondered who I could possibly be.

Dad said, We will take you home, we will take care of things, don't you worry,
I'm scared, don't leave, she begged, Please hurry.

He smiled and lied brightly he would,
While mother said quietly, We would if we could.

But the opportunity had long since passed,
And time with her had ended at last.

Don't leave without me, buy me a ticket, we will sit next to each other, okay?
Yes, of course, we can fly back together, one day.

There is no no true despair without hope
But this is how we choose to cope.