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In His Last Days
I am nine but my doctor says,
I am living my life's last days;
I often see my hands tremble,
And then I'm taken to the hospital.
People here are sick and old,
But about me when they are told,
They stare at me with wet eyes,
And then look up into the skies...
I've been coming here since a month almost,
Regularly, like the morning post;
But I see people who have a sprain,
Cured in a week, they never come here again.
Why isn't my sprain like theirs?
Why doesn't God answer my prayers?
Why does my mom become unhappy,
Each time she takes a look at me?
What my parents wanted to create,
I couldn't be that, I'm so unfortunate;
I couldn't fulfill my father's dreams,
I failed to be a good son, it seems...
nice poem
Very simple and mind touching!!! Triggers the soul when you identify the self with this piece...should admit that u have a remarkable way of blending ideas with excellent usage of words.
what a nice heart u r having,all the +ve characters of
a nice heart ,u r show'in here ....as marching to
last seconds of "LIFE"........... keep up.
this poem really does show how a young child may feel being faced with something like this. It makes you think, when reading something like this, just how many children are faced with things like this everyday. It's sad.
Shilpa, Very depressing I agree and well penned. Gives one thoughts of what it would be like, Thank you for sharing. linda