I say life is like a sentence.
We all seem to have them,
but it's just a shame that we all
don't get the chance to serve them to the finish.
You can be ill, but strong of passion
that allows you to walk with your dreams;
but don't be mistaken about
the faction that divides us.
Legs of steel, but a mind that
is dying faster than you can age.
A body that is disabling,
but hands built to make art.

A heart that is broken,
but a voice that was made to be spoken;
but if you just listen closely you
can hear the voice crying out towards your help.
Now I just have a thought that was
pressured by the coldness in my heart.
The question that I ask, is it time to let go
of sight, touch, smell, taste, and noise?
Because in the end, life is a sentence
and my last thought was my witness.