my 23 yr old son fought stage four neuroendocrine cancer I watched as his foil balloon I had bought him again, deflated in the corner, I felt broken watching his time on earth deflate as well. 

She’d always made sure they always got one each time they visited the hospital as small children.
He grinned weakly and closed his eyes, 
The sun softly set outside his window. 
The next morning the sun drifted up to the sky,  bright and warm. 
Shimmering light reflected off the ballon that bobbed joyful dance in the corner. 
Slowly time passed 
The sun set. 
Once again the sun rose, this time the balloon drifted lower in the corner, 
Its grinning face dipped toward the floor. 
The man bent forward in half bravely breathing through pain, 
He kept his eyes closed, each breath soft, weak. 
The sun slowly set. 
As the sun drifted up and out from the clouds the next day, the balloon lay limp and deflated on the floor in the corner. 
The man sat bent forward, 
Breathing weakly. 
The lady placed her worn hand on his fuzzy head, 
Patting gently, humming a peaceful tune, 
dogged in her determination to stay stoic and warm.