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Poem

I left it all in the will, you said.
You're not going to die,  was my reply
knowing full well dead
is where we're all going to lie.

Don't worry about tomorrow, you said
it will be taken care of,
dismissing a growing dread
with a wave of your love.

Now, in a nursing home you lie
at $10,000 a month for your care.
Using up all you own with a cry:
there won't be a dime there.

For your children,
grandchildren and great.
Well its all being spent away now
leaving a poorer fate.

Leaving only memories
to laugh, and cry, and gab ...
while Alzheimer's  takes  your love
leaving the taxpayer the tab.

For you may live to be one hundred
in the horror of life's fate,
and all the money in the world
cannot predict the wait.

I left it all in the will, you said
but that was another day.
You Did The Very Best In Life 
and thats all there is left to say.

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