Waiting For Death

WAITING FOR DEATH How tedious it is waiting for Death When She is still dressing up To sit in a quagmire of silent prayer While sandwiches turn dry How tedious when a nappy Must still be changed As Forgiveness waits for a touch And a mantra hangs like a noose How tedious when the chain thins But do not break Links either clogged or rusty Clock hands not moving a second Then a message is written and Read twenty times Her mascara brush picked up hurriedly Death did not even knock