Short Caregivingold Poems

Care

High-backed chairs around the walls
Frame their faces,
A gallery of despair.
Daytime TV droning daily
Offering tips
On cooking and hair.
Care workers lift, soothe, wipe,
Meaning well
Distribute stewed grey tea
Use my first name too loudly
Like old friends in hell.
But they don't know me.
I have always been old to their young eyes,
An empty shell is what they see,
They dress and bathe my body
But they don't touch me.