You couldn't know it: <br />It was your very last. <br />It tasted just like Amarone should. <br />And, had you known <br />would you have had a blast <br />that night, <br />to celebrate the end? <br />And had I known, my dear <br />I would have cried <br />the day you died. <br /> <br />You broke your ankle on that afternoon, <br />by tripping over something, <br />'twas full moon. <br />The doctors fixed it with a little plate. <br />That little plate determined then your fate. <br /> <br />Golden Staph it was, <br />those buggers liked <br />your body. <br />And they swarmed and spiked <br />through your bloodstream <br />with a will until <br />they managed to declare you <br />'gravely ill'. <br /> <br />Seven days you fought this nasty illness, <br />but your system couldn't save itself. <br />Your final visitor was Our Lady Stillness. <br />And the clock was slowly striking number 12. <br /> <br />I was not there, I did not know, <br />my dearest cousin <br />and best friend! <br />The doctors said you suffered so. <br />You had no one to hold your hand. <br /> <br />And had I known, I would have come <br />to sit with you and hold your hand. <br />The nurses said your brain was numb, <br />I was away, in distant land. <br /> <br />And Death is cruel in its might, <br />it takes them left and right. <br />I would have cried, I would have cried <br />the day my cousin Rosel died.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rosel/
