In The Clouds and A Terrible Reality.

This is a two-part poem. Let me know what you think of it, and I might write more on this if it's possible.


2. A Terrible Reality.

He stares out of the window, chin resting on calloused hands, 
Watching the patterns of rain dribble together in drabs,
Whilst behind him a woman lays, unaware of him, of anyone. 
He's sat in a dream, wishing he were in her place. 

She's been laying there for months, unknowing, unseeing, 
Whilst friends and family shoot past her each day. 
Tears are cried over hear silently and loudly, she's shaken each day, 
Nothing they do will wake her up, their efforts are effortless. 

Her heart's still beating, her mind's still thinking, 
But her ears never seem to hear their desperate pleas.
They want her to wake up, to be okay and be in their arms, 
But she has different ideas, she'll make them wait. 

He sits by her side every day, eating very little, 
Even if the nurses try to shoo him away, he always stays.
He's sorry he couldn't protect her, he blames himself, 
She lays there suffering whilst he's doomed to live on. 

As he sits, he thinks a lot, about a lot of things; 
The friends he lost when he lost her, the people he missed, 
The job he got fired from because he spent too much time away. 
The girl of his dreams, how she is now, how she used to be. 

She had a chiming laugh and a charming smile, 
And a vibrant charisma that lasted for days,
You'd meet her and instantly smile, her smile catches. 
And she was beautiful, not scarred, utterly beautiful. 

He told her one day that they'd sleep on the clouds, 
Dancing and smiling, without a care in the world. 
They'd listen to the rain, but always be dry,
The rain taking their sadness, washing it away. 

And when he sleeps, he gets fitful, merciless nightmares
About the time he drove when he was overtired.
He should've stopped, 'Please stop' he whispers to himself, 
But he's forced to watch as he drifts off, and crashes. 

It's the dazed look around that tells him it's happened,
His car upside down, the roof on the floor, 
Glass smashed about him tainted red with blood. 
And then he looks to his left, and sees her unconscious. 

The ambulance comes next, sirens sounding from afar
As he tries to wake his lover, his wife with the bloodied brow. 
Shaking her, shouting as they drag him away, 
There's blood on his hands, not just his blood, it's hers. 

That's when he wakes up, soaked in sweat,
In the same old uncomfortable, scratchy hospital chair. 
She's still the same unresponsive girl he rendered there, 
So he returns to the window, head on chin, and watches the rain. 

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