I’ll Finally Be There
I guess I look like a bag of bones
skin’s all wrinkled, my eyes just stare.
I sit so still, hardly moving at all
quiet as a mouse in my old wheelchair.
Inside my head memories come and go
I try to think does someone care?
I’m all alone no family left
the end must be near, I better prepare.
There must be a place
where my friends have gone
I know it’s not here, not sure where.
My eyes can’t see but my heart will know
when I leave the Nursing Home
I’ll finally be there.
Poetry and Art by Patricia Walter 2007©