Mom Mom

This is a poem I wrote many years a go whem my grandmother was dying.



She lay in a nursing home bed

Frightened of the nurse with the needle

While her family bickers

Over her dwindling fortune


Her eyes roam her drab room

Searching for something to connect to

While her family cannot stand

The sight of what she has become


She is fed with a tube

Through a diseased hole in her stomach

While her family frets

That she may die at an inconvenient time


She no longer recognizes her family

The ones she fed, cuddled and played with

While they visit her for a few moments

And complain of her lingering on for so long


She lay in a nursing home bed

Frightened of life, not able to die

While her family lives out in the world

Frightened of death, not able to live.

bebitz bebitz
41-45, F
1 Response Feb 25, 2009

Great poem. I think many sick elderly are treated this way. Family forgets what she/he's life use to be. It's unfortunate for the sick and dying.