“Don’t Go” he said
As he held my hand tight
It was the second time
He said those words tonight.

His breathing labored.
His face showed pain.
As I wonder tonight
Will we meet again ?

If I’d wanted to stay
I suppose I could have.
Looking back now
It seems I should have.

None wants to die alone.
None wants to die at all.
But die we all must
At the final curtain call.

The crossing is hard
No matter if done early or late.
Its how and not how long we live
That will decide our fate.

Did i do good by visiting an hour,
Or bad by only visiting an hour.
What would I have wanted
If I were laying on that bed ?

I’d want to have someone near.
And I wouldn’t much care
If they were stranger or dear.
Alone I might despair.
— me

A poem of pondering after leaving the bedside of a dying man. What is the right thing. I justified leaving as needing to go home to my family. But truly I didn’t spend much time with them. I could have sat with him longer. When I returned he was gone. What is the right thing to do ? Was what I did good or was it selfish because I left early. The thoughts one goes through are never straight forward.