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I C U
"First impression, of a comatose friend"
Raw presence of isolation, seized in idle gray,
observation, looks on, with shock in disbelief,
impressions of desolation, chill up through my spine,
No sedation; Life is gone, but, not deceased.
Through the open door, in dismal bloom,
sixth sense of pain, in shades of doom; I C U,
essence of laughter, hindered in sorrow
torrid tears, in listless eyes
vacant face, in disarray; I C U,
riddled adrift, within no season,
presence of mind, dead to the world,
living in death Plot point in time; I C U
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