He wasn’t going to make it
He knew it
So did his agitated, pacing wife
Though they couldn’t be certain, until
they heard the doctor’s ominous knock, and
his heavy footsteps, carrying him
to the side of the man’s bed
The doctor didn’t stay long
Doctors never do
Whether you’re healthy or sick
In this case, it’s just as well
The doctor’s spotless white coat–
An ugly reminder of death’s ghostly face
From my bed across the hall
I watched the closed white curtain
Surrounding the old man’s bed
Making me wonder what was on the other side
Of the curtain, of life
I prayed my news tomorrow would be better
That God would decide He’s not finished with me
That I might hold my wife’s hand for a little while longer
Poetic Alchemist 
Ah.