speeding down deserted streets
blue light but no siren wail
to a rundown care home
for the elderly and frail
the man is incoherent
eyes once bright are dim
he has difficulty in breathing
prognosis is looking grim
holding the oxygen mask on the patient
the patient far too weak
the hands beckoning to towards him
indicating he wants to speak
“never do anything that you're told
unless you know the reason why.
the more joy you bring to your fellow man
more at your grave will cry”
she held and squeezed his hand gently
she could see he was slipping away
and talked and talked until she ran out
of optimistic things to say
still alive at the hospital door
though chances look very slim
they saw his name was really Charles
that the folks call sunny Jim
the day was long and arduous
with little time to think
at home was quiet and sombre
seeking solace in a drink
No comments:
Post a Comment