She sat in the chair, eyes glazed and sad, had she done something so terribly bad?
Why had they left her alone and confused; the love she had given, spent and abused
The children she raised, gave guidance and hope, now in her dotage left alone to cope
The values, the morals gone by the way, lonely and hungry, dreading each day
Lives in far places, no time for Mom; too much to do, things to be done!
No phone calls, no letters, no clinging of hope, so the glass of water, the tablets coax
And slowly she takes them, swallows them down, no more a burden, except when she's found
As her head begins to swim and swirl, she remembers the things she did as a girl
An image appears through her mist of tears, her own mother smiling, beckoning her near
And she rushes to feel those welcoming arms, her last breath escaping, at last she belongs!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A heartfelt poem. Wel rhymed. You may like to read mine entitled The Old Lady.