I look at you and see your frown,
Your wrinkles, your history recorded there,
Your skin - crinkly and worn, the genre of life,
Your frailty framed against the pillow,
As you fight to live on -
Each line in your face a road travelled,
A battle fought, the story of your survival,
Your mouth droops, the spittle escapes,
As I wipe, I marvel at our role reversal -
Me now the mother, and you the child,
I hold your hand and trace the gnarled knuckles,
Clenched in pain, weak in strength and remember
How you held me when I was young, the gentle
Creature that was my mother, strong, bright
And playful with each other - the last time
I saw you walk was to stumble and fall, the
Grief on your face at your inability to survive,
Here you lie, your frame all shrivelled
As you fight to live on-
My tears fall silently, a mixture of emotion,
Admiration for what you\'ve done,
Impatience for what you can\'t,
Revulsion at what you\'ve become,
Pity for both of us at what\'s to come,
Your eyes flicker, recognition lights your face
And then is gone as your last breadth is drew,
Your fight to live on - lost - as I am without you.