They love to walk;
They love to talk;
They need our care;
Some only stare!
Some are alone;
No one will phone;
No one will feed,
Or clothe them indeed.
Their minds have fears;
Left by their dears;
Their face won’t show,
Heart’s anguish, oh!
They have gone aged;
They are now caged;
Some are diseased;
Some lives have ceased.
Weak is their frame;
Some are now lame;
They’re a burden;
None will them gladden.
Not all are quite lucky;
Some are mere orphans;
Some get a phone-call;
Most trip and fall.
This is their sad plight;
Their eyes have bad sight;
And when they fall ill,
Their course is downhill!
I know they do as we take care of my mother and now I sure could use some too. Good write.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a sad way to end ones life. Everyone deserves to have people who love them and care for them. You put it very well. Marilyn