At eighty five, at home, alone
Watching Sky and watching phone.
Talked to no-one all the day
No one called, or so you say.
Forgetful now, on recent things
Each new day, awaiting rings
Purpose now, what paper says
Clinging on to your old ways.
Every day the family calls
Welcome break inside these walls
Bringing news and “are you well? ”
Locked away inside your cell.
Getting dressed up every day
Desperation kept at bay
Watching locals in a hurry
Each little thing is now a worry.
Pray to God to keep you well
You’re ready now, why can’t he tell?
There’s nothing left to do in life;
Release you now to join your wife.
Life’s unfair in many ways
Need more say in “end of days”
“and if I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very powerful deep and sad well pened poem. however there is hope here when this person has company (phone calls then it changes the game) the people he cares for are worth liveing for. like this good deep write 10 from me