Please listen! Please listen!

Please listen!  Please listen!  I have something to say.
There's no point in making plans now, the goals I sought are done
The days are short, the end is near, the sun is quickly dropping
All loose ends tied, all wounds are healed, the stairs are set for walking
But then Thump! Thump! Thump!
Dribbling, frothy drops of red
Like on my cheek the reaper rides
Riding steady ahead.

Please listen!  Please listen!  Do not leave this room!
Listen you -- for you I share my faith -- for you I've lived this long,
for you my stories and thoughts wait -- for you I'm set for talking,
For you He calls, the faithful one, to hear the Angels singing,
My Johnny!  My Johnny!
Come sit here by my bed
Don't tell me there is no time
Because you're riding steady ahead.

My Johnny did not listen, his heart yearns for my song
My Johnny does not feel my pulse, which once was beating strong,
Old stories tucked deep and bound, never ever to get out,
As regret sets, his  mind sails, seething lots to think about,
Posturing happens, and breathing stops!
And stories that once bled,
Wake up in my Johnny's mind,
Riding steady ahead.

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Thump! Thump! Thump!

Thump! Thump! Thump! -- Gurgle! Gurgle! Gurgle!
Bust the vessels -- through tubes -- suctioned copious green,
Inside the somber room, filled with friends and family,
Into the past where those gathered are reminiscing;
He looked like his brother's twin -- that likeness no longer with the old patient.
Yes his long-time wife did seem peaceful, talking about him and holding his hand,
So neat I feel as his heart pounds -- I put my yankaur down.

Thump! Thump! Thump! --Gurgle! Gurgle! Gurgle!
Into the battle of D-Day -- where scenes of battle humbled his soul,
Back home he met a girl he carried on roller blades, hand in hand, round and round and round,
He maintained used cars by day -- no Chevy's or clunkers -- would he buy or sell.
Six kids walking and talking, six found their ways into this world,
Here they all are, all talking. Here the kids are thinking about dad,
The drip, drop dripping, beeping lines, heart rhythm slows way down.

Thump! Thump Thump! -- Gurgle! Gurgle! Gurgle!
He squeezes my hand -- he opens his eyes and smiles
Such short time we've known -- became more than just a patient,
Rick loved the old man gurgling on death's bed,
Yet not a sorrow's cry was heard, even with Cheyne Stoke's breathing,
The man was a hero in the minds of those surrounding his bed, even me,
So strong his legacy will live on -- I put his eyelids down.