World of Woe

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As a nurse, I've visited many nursing homes, and witnessed many souls, sitting aimlessly in wheelchairs, or couches-asleep, or sitting there staring into the abyss-no family there at the moment. There has to be a better way, but alas, I haven't found it. This poem projects the future for many of us, I fear. I don't have the answer, do you?

So many times we hear it But choose not to believe it So very hard to conceive it So we let it go. We watch during visits brief And satisfy our minds with relief Though their faces are filled with grief Mirror the thoughts of “I told you so”. We pat the hand so small and frail And ignore the face which always tell If our hearts would only listen well Of their inner fears and woes. When life is long and they decline We shake our heads and then decide To place them out of sight and mind And about our business we go. Until one day when in a chair we sit As others come for a brief visit To pat the hand so small and frail But ignore the face that always tells Til out the door to their life they go And leave us sitting in a world of woe. © Deborah M. Kelly 07/2010

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Ray Zottola

Date: 7/27/2021 2:02:00 PM

Deb, as I age i often think back when leaving from a visit and think, did I do enough, say enough. In the end, its never enough. I should have done a little more. Oh well! Regrets I've had a few.

Beryl Edmonds

Date: 7/24/2021 11:47:00 PM

So sad and so true for many folk who end up sat in a chair with nowhere to go being too frail or disabled to do so. My mother suffered from dementia for many years, I’ve written her a memorial poem on the subject which I will be posting later today, titled simply “Mother”… Belle

Ray Zottola
Date: 7/27/2021 2:06:00 PM

I have a poem as well about Mother. Looking forward to reading yours