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 Mail share

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