A dear old lady whom I know
Whose friendship gives me a warm glow
Has been taken from her charming flat;
As her doctor signed a paper – that
Enabled scattered kith and kin
To throw her treasures in the bin!
All items of value have been sold;
Such cruelty makes my blood run cold!
Insult to injury what’s more
The flat which lies on second floor
Of a Fifties block in a quiet square
Shows signs of life – new tenants there!
Aged ninety-two, a fragile soul
She’s fallen into a black hole
No one to turn to, no one cares
Bewilderment met by blank stares.
Independence lost, in passive mode
To enter the Home you need a code
This we have so can pass by
A little comfort to supply.
It’s not the same, she’s forced to share
Her bedroom – always someone there
Thank God she has a telephone
Her family has hearts of stone!
(c) Poet in the woods 2013
She died - barely 2 months later ...