Stuck In A Home.
By
Shelley MillerYou're finding it hard to be kind,
There's more interesting things on your mind,
Why look at me when there's nothing to see,
I'm not graceful, appealing, refined.
I mean nothing so why should you care,
I'm a saggy old heap in a chair,
Once I was sprightly, coveted nightly,
You don't know, you weren't there.
I mean little to you and it shows,
I'm fragile, an old wilting rose,
Once, I was happy, now sat in a nappy,
That's soaked and offending your nose.
It's pot luck, a roll of the dice,
A carer who cares to be nice,
A smile at the ready, hands that are steady,
Who speaks to you, not once but twice.
You glance at the clock on the wall,
Hometime, no longer on call,
You proffer a smile in a nonchalant style,
And believe that you gave it your all.
© Copyright
Shelley Miller
This is excellent Shelley. In just five stanza's you've depicted the patient, her thoughts and her impression of the carers who briefly share their lives. Summed up in one word; compassion.
ReplyDeleteVery moving!
Thank you.
ReplyDeleteHi Shelley, tried to comment before but evidently it didn't take. This again, is excellent. We are all human and not all carers are saints.
ReplyDelete