I thought I'd saved him from pneumonia;
But other lung got infected bit late;
And antibiotics had ceased to work;
My father lay gasping for breath for days.
Those were the days when modern drugs were few;
My father was a diabetic too;
I found my learning had not helped for once!
A doctor cannot heal the sick always!
I felt a fool facing my sinking dad;
He had been bed-ridden for seven years;
I knew he was in is dying moments;
He passed away suddenly one fine morn.
You can't prevent death from doing its job;
All earthly being have to die one day;
God's grace may help us put off the onslaught;
But, death is always victor finally!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 23-03-2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem