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About the Poem

I have been a paramedic for over 18 years and I have too many memories. Sometimes in the back of an ambulance it's just you and the patient, and time draws to a close and we help where we can.

Being There

Is this the train to end of station
the end of life, its consummation
Is it the chill or whistles shrill
that makes me check if I'm breathing still
My aged hands reach out to ask
who will help me in this task
I fight for life with waning zeal
I know its passed and losing's real
So I push for every breath
to find the courage and accept my death
I thank you for the hand I've held
It helped while my spirit swelled
Your eyes they speak of special care
And I thank you for being there
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3 Visitor Comments

*tears* one word to describe this poem . true
I really like it. It has a nice helping hand.

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