Cancer

She looks me in the eye,
But I swear she can't see me.
She tells me a story,
But I swear she isn't speaking.

She sits there,
immobile and unmoving;
paralyzed by the pain that she cannot feel,

She drinks her diluted apple juice,
But I know that she wishes it's diet coke.
She eats her broth,
But I know she dreams it to be meat.

The morphine trickles,
Something she finds to be very interesting.

I tell her I will draw her a new picture,
As she looks at the old one with yellow eyes.
She tells me it is beautiful,
But I know she doesn't understand the title,
The Angel's Eye.