She sat in her wheelchair and peered out the window,
Joyce Baxter was independent until this once awful day,
A cancer, bone cancer had put her at bay,
Clearly her illness brought her down with pains that held fast,
She took care of many but hear she wont last,
A nursing home ungrateful children did place,
their aging mom who now needed a kind human face,
SHe was a speaker for the poor and a kind heart that did show,
Now bound she sits close to the ground thinking of winter as the cool northern winds blow,
Signs everywhere with trees shedding their leaves,
Ducks and birds heading south in search of some heat,
Squirrels out of breathe but working quite hard,
While those thinking of themselves show no empathy or regard,
She wondered about John who lived in a box under a bridge,
She thought about cindy living in her car with her 3 little kids,
Who will take care of them and make sure that their fed,
A tear fell and exploded as it caught on the windows ledge,
Joyce known by all as a serveant of god,
a savior, a hand reaching out, an Angel without wings,
Her strong voice that awakened those who have slept,
has helped those who are needy, never taking a rest,
She called on the mayor and all with an ear,
Never begged for help, she demanded compassion and care,
For those who you dont see, you overlook and pass by,
are somebodies mothers, brothers and children she'd scream out with a cry,
"You should be ashamed of yourself for not helping them out",
she said that as she waved her finger pointing the fortunate, "with a powerful shout"
Age has come with torture and pain,
her joints all aching and now she gives up her reign,
The queen of the poor stuck in a nursing home,
forgotten, unwanted, and quietly she sits,
Old and alone...
Originally Posted On Site: 2006-09-25 12:55:08
Last Login: 05.05.12
Visits as of 12-12-07: 123
Comments:
|
|||
|
|||
