 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 23:27:03 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 90523
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Candass' Heart
[time] => 2005-04-10 16:30:16
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => This is how it happened... His daughter needed a heart transplant. But those who know this misfortune... Know the wait is an eternity... She was laid up in a hospital... Dying on fruitless hospitality. And he was a wreck. By coincidence he ran around in an ambulance... Saving people's lives... Watching as their life drained from his fingers... He'd seen them die a million times... In his dreams and wretched scolding nightmares... But he couldn't think about that now... Two months, the doctor said. Your daughter is most surely dying... If we find someone even half a match... We'll try to fit her in... But I do not see it happening... The man cried himself to sleep each night. There was a girl, her name was Candass. She was young, just two months from graduating... She was going to go to college... She wasn't sure in what field, but she desired To do something that would change the world. She had one problem... She was born with a terrible case of asthma. One night as she was coming from a football game, when she had an attack... She couldn't breath, her friends called the ambulance... Among the men who came, the dying girls father was one... He went through Candasses things to get an idea Just what was wrong... Instead, he found her blood type, And a donors card. The girl stopped breathing, and he was told to do CPR He admitted to himself later... He didn't try very hard... The other guys didn't notice, as they tried to ward away the crowd... When they returned, The man shook his head with a frown... He had watched her die in his arms...and for once... He did not care. He waited the rest of the night... For a phone call from his daughters doctor, Saying they had gotten lucky, They had found a donor... At eight o' clock, the phone finally rang... The man flung his book aside, and jumped Out of his bed, He answered with enthusiasm... From the other side of the phone... He almost heard the doctor shake his head... 'I'm sorry...' The doctor stated... 'Your daughter is dead.' DNB [comments] => 3 [counter] => 146 [topic] => 39 [informant] => ForeverAndADay [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Grief )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com