The Final Hour

This is about a Christian woman living at a rest home that has no other place to abide without anyone caring and depression. I used to work as a CNA(Certified Nurse Assistant). The Final Hour Oh, I want to go home cannot wait to roam, not here but far above, to abide in God’s love, where tears never flow like they do here below. I wake up no shoes when without a clue, locate under the bed as I lift up the spread. What time to go now for the dining room, chow. My eyes are growing dim, help me to find Jim, do not want a dispute with you…, I’m in pursuit, is he over there, in his favorite wheel chair. Do I have to take a pill? What a splendid thrill! Here she comes so late find I detest the wait, once gone need to eat, no other person to greet. Isn’t this exquisite? come in and visit. three beds in a row, she sounds like a crow. A toilet to share, I’m hoping no one’s there. Who gave me a phone call, only, Sister Hall. How is the preacher, his wife, still a teacher? My bible lies here, in the heart it lives near. Wipe tears off the sleeve, now you go and leave. Days I long for past, desire to be free at last, so I hear the songs of praise for which I long. Who knows the final hour that’s in God’s power? The curtain of life opens to no more strife, leave this earth of pain forever without a cane. By tiptoe