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Doctors play your dosage like a card trickScrabbled down the hallways yelling "Yatzee"I brought books on Harper in the ArcticSomething called "The Politics of Lonely"A toothbrush and Quick Pick with a plusYou tried not to roll your sunken eyesAnd said "Hey can you help me? I can't reach it"Pointed to the camera in the ceilingI climbed up, blocked it so they couldn't seeTurned to find you out of bed and kneelingBefore the nurses came took you awayI stood there on a chair and watched you pray
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