Fools Like Me Poem by Margaret Alice Second

You reached the end of your nursing skills,
one request too much, a damned demand
and you've had enough - from now on it is
doing things myself though you berate me
when I move too much since it will stymie
improvement of ligaments - yet

No offer of help is made, while you were out
I moved about on a chair - now you're back,
determined to be the provider but cursing as
maintenance jobs go wrong, you love in your
own way and it requires me to be indepen-
dent hobbling about on a crutch

The heavy moon boot in place changing my
left leg into a dead weight - BUT your finer
qualities outweigh your inability to have
sympathy with the injuries suffered by
clumsy fools like me…

[18 October 2014]