No dog to bark when hearing
Someone at the door
No child sleeping on my lap
As she did once before
No house to clean
I just 'reside'
It's hard to hang on
To my pride
For my own perpetuity
I will remain a guest
I scream and die and cry inside
Yet they say, "It's for the best."
I'll never tend a garden
Or have my wash to do
I can't go to my kitchen
And cook a meal or two
At home or if away from home
Death would be my fate
The hard part to accepting it
Is that in here I sit and wait
© Geraldine Petrone
Used With Permission
All Rights Reserved By Author
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