Bearing the Cross

Can I take away
your helplessness,
your pain and your disease,
dwell in your deep suffering
and make it my own if you please?

Can I pull away
the tubes, the masks,
the needles and the wounds,
that your withered frame now adorns
to free your spirit that's still unbound?

Can I hug you tight
and hold your hand,
and rest my restless head on your heart,
or wait for you to caress my hair
while I try so hard to play my part?

Can I look away
or shrug it off,
and blame it on the Gods,
or sit with you in your pain,
and share the bearing of the cross?