Whenever you were ill
I worried,
I'd ask what you needed still
Then to your side I hurried.
And if no one else checked on you or called,
I was then very appalled.
Whenever you needed aid
You called me,
For you I constantly prayed
From you I never did flee.
When no one else would help I always would,
I always did the very best that I truly could.
Whenever you were broke
You came to my door,
With depression and need you spoke
I gave you what I had, I wished it was more.
I was your only helpful bank,
And then me, you did thank.
Now here I am sick and broke
And sitting all alone,
I sneeze and cough and I choke
Now you or no-one are at my door or on the phone.
One thing I know as long as I do live,
You are my friend, but only when I have something to give.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem