Poems by Jill
Wednesday, 11 March 2015
11th March 2015
Unable to care for himself
too frail to be left alone,
days spent in a sleepy haze
dozing quietly at home.
How hard it is to grow old
when the body starts its decline
but the mind is still as sharp
and is telling him it is time.
1 comment:
jc
11 March 2015 at 15:14
So sad, reduced to a waiting game
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So sad, reduced to a waiting game
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