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
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