Tuesday, July 6, 2010

A Lonely Heart's Cry

Her eyes open,
unable to see very well.
She tries to call out
but her voice is quiet and weak.
She cries out to those that care for her.
The come, see she is dry and okay and leave.
She weeps again.
All she wants is a human touch.

[Long ago they touched her,
hugged her, kissed her,
Long ago when she was young.
When her eyes saw well.
When her voice was strong and loud.
When she had usefulness to them]

Cold and alone, she can't reach the covers,
and her hands grasp but cannot hold.
How cruel can they be to leave her?
Alone and shivering in the dark.
Then they come, changing her bed and clothes.
And cover her up finally,
but soon she is too hot, and she cries out,
and they look in and leave.
She is not in real distress.

[What is she to do to get their respect?
Shouldn't it be something given to her?
So frail and unable to do for herself
yet they leave her alone, in the dark,
as the fears of what is unknown mount.
And her tears fade,
only because no one will come,
and she knows it too well.]

The door opens, and she looks up.

"Mother, we've come to visit.
And we've brought your new granddaughter."

The frail old woman holds the frail little girl.
They stare into each others eyes.
And each one knows the pain of the other.
Without a word,
without a gesture,
they share something so poingent,
no one else in the room understands,
and the old woman begins to weep,
and the little girl begins to cry,
because they know.

They are both alone.

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