What Is The Point? Poem by Phil Soar

There's a cushion to support my back
Pills to avoid a heart attack
And I sit on pads in case I piss myself
Oh how much fun I had
Until I caught what dad had had
Now it seems I cannot reach the kitchen shelf

So I sit and look for solace
While the doctor checks my wallet
As she knows I couldn't stop her rifling through it
It's my money that she'd like
And the keys to my motor Bike
While I sit alone and beg her not to do it

So she whispers in my ear
She doesn't know how I got here
But she hopes I'll be around for many years
Meantime she'll help herself
To all the cash on my top shelf
And I watch her leave through all my lonesome tears



After note:
This poem is not a reflection of me or my life.
Phil Soar