A large room
Populated by the
Living dead
Playing stupid simple games
Because it’s all there is
Coloring with crayons
Spaces with numbers
Too small to see
With tired eyes that have lost
Their Sparkle
A long time ago.
Waiting
Forever waiting
The kids had said you will
Love it there
They had said nothing of the
Stupid simple games
Nor of the paint by numbers
Too small to see
They had said we come visit
All the time
These thoughts crawling through
A mind too tired to care
Waiting
Forever waiting
700 dollars a day
Apparently
For a small room with
A bed and a recliner
And hours of stupid simple games
Followed by paint by numbers
Too small to see
Oh, and there are some meals
Glorious in their indifference,
But no alcohol and no cigarettes
Have to stay healthy
For many more years to
Enjoy the stupid simple games
And paint by numbers
Too small to see
Waiting
Forever waiting
Another weekend with no visits
But at least no games either
And no paint by numbers
That starts again on Monday
On the weekend if
There is no rain
Sitting outside
Watching the birds
Or nothing
With tired eyes that have
Lost their sparkle
Waiting
Forever waiting
They said you will love it there
-
Author:
Alfred Peyer (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 28th, 2017 03:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 49
Offline)
Comments5
This reminds me of one of my times i was sent to hospital .. although they did not tell me i would love it there! I didn't!! Another great write? I hope all is okay.
Oh yes, everything is fine with me. One day I remembered the home my mother was in after she had a massive stroke, and decided to write about what an old peoples home is for some of its occupants. And I guess deep down we are all afraid of ending up like that.
Wow, a very well done commentary poem, Fred! Save the 700 bucks a day and just shoot me.
I feel the same way!
The older I get the more I fear ending up in a home - this really brings home the reality of it all.
The anti-dote is to live fairly healthy, to exercise, to keep the body going so we can live on our own until the end.
Fully agree but my father who did all these things (as do I) succumbed to dementia - not a dignified way to end ones life.
sad ,great write...my prayer - never be dependent ... always be creative...
That is what we all strive for, but for some it is simply not possible. Thanks so much!
I'm 62. I don't want to grow old
any suggestions?
I am 69. Wanna stay young forever? Don't look into the mirror!
my toothless mouth thanks you. I have a poem about looking into a mirror when I was 25.
maybe it will reflect a youthful reflection.
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