Sydney Poetry
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Michael Foley's Blog – August 2016 Archive (1)
Who will look after me?
The transparent tube lies on the floor from the oxygen bottle to his nose,
His lungs are in deep decay, asbestos slowly killing them every day,
Years of cutting asbestos sheets sucking down a lung full with every breath,
He spits up pieces of bloodstained lung as a searing pain rips across his chest.
How he used to laugh at the younger guys, when he saw them using a mask,
They called them soft girlie boys, but they are the ones that will laugh the last,
The…
Added by Michael Foley on August 20, 2016 at 16:32 — No Comments
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