I listen to the sounds of those around me.
All simple words with tenancy to blurr.
I listen to the happiness surround me,
affecting me from wence it occurs.

I watch the people move all around me,
but don't understand what's happening.
A steady blurr is all that I can see,
and I really don't know how things do seem.

They talk some more in words I cannot hear,
and their painful voices seem to drift away.
Their voices seem so very near,
but my eyes have slipped closed with the day.

When I awake, the voices I'm still hearing,
and the faces I can still barely see.
My uncontiousness still seems to linger,
until I realize that they talk of me.

I listen to the words that they are speaking,
and catch a phrase that makes me want to cry.
The joy is greater than-I guess-it would seem,
but their words were "She isn't going to die."