The ventilator squeaks at every turn at some particular
point,
Though I've never been able to find out at which

She stopped crying for her mamma,
Who cannot deny her of pain and that's a lesson she has yet
to learn
Her leg shakes restlessly
She has been breathing old air for too long
Right before I leave God's waiting room each time,
I give her a dry kiss on the forehead,
Muttering a silent desire for my quick and painless)
death)
I spit my hate on the grave she is yet to be buried in