My mother and I go out ‘n’ about together, but my reclusive father stubbornly refuses to go out, not even in sunny weather! They don’t go in the garden either, it’s like a builder’s yard with an overgrown walnut tree – (my father’s a retired builder).
My elderly mum and dad,
To look at them is so sad,
They are living still,
But they are dying and becoming ill,
To live like that is beyond belief,
It already fills me with grief
and I cannot lie,
They sit in the dark waiting to die.
My elderly parents I can’t understand,
They lived their life so bland,
Plodded on through their days,
With stagnant browns and greys,
No sunshine or joy to be had,
When they should be glad,
No music and colours are gone,
That is so sadly WRONG!
By Debbie Wood-Holland.