Glazed and Gazing
CW: Severe injury, death, trauma
I found him on the bedroom floor,
Glazed and gazing, by the door.
A bluish tint, that sick old thing,
Why, oh why, won't that phone ring?
A minute each, no, yes, okay;
The lost time was showing today.
I fear it's already been far too long,
Seven hours since that bloody gong?
I'll never know, nobody does.
Least of all that friend I saw,
Daring, neat, and so much more,
Glazed and gazing, by the door.