Skip to main content

A Silent Mournful Prayer

An Oldster rocks on the shaded porch
at that home where Seniors go.
That final stop on their journey home
where their smiles no longer show.
Their worn out frames attacked by pain
everyday from dawn 'til dusk.
Staring into nothingness,
not knowing who to trust.

A visitor comes once a week,
but they can't remember who.
The world's now filled with strangers
as they smile while passing through.
Their blurry sight diminishing,
it's hard to make things out.
It's hard to keep one train of thought
or retain one thing to care about.

A stranger helps them eat their meals
and bathe and dress for bed.
Barely hearing moving lips
or what the person said.
They close their eyes to sleep once more
and say a silent prayer.
Lord Jesus come and rescue me
and take me out of here !
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2012
About this poem:
There but for the Grace of God go I !!
And the help from my caring, loving neighbours !

Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2021. All rights reserved.

Post Comment

Comments (11)

Ladybee42
Dearest mister snowytop, your poem is very gentle in it's sadness yet makes me smile just a little. You see my mum who died this January just gone, passed her last few years in a nursing home. She had trouble with short term memory so was put in a ward with alzheimer's patients (inmates she called them laugh ) She made friends with all the nurses and carers and never lost her sense of humour. I have a series of photos that I took when I last visited her shortly before she died and she is so funny and mischievous in them as ever.
It is sad to grow old and lose a sense of who you are and who the people are around you, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Yet growing old is part of life and we just have to embrace it and deal with it as best we can.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on this with us.

thumbs up purple heart purple heart
Odette67
A stranger helps them eat their meals
and bathe and dress for bed.
Barely hearing moving lips
or what the person said.

One doesn't have to be old to end their day's in a nursing home. My husband was diagnosed at 50 yr old with "Lewie Body Dementia" A very rare form of dementia..The last 10 yr of his life was spent in a nursing home..He was just like a baby..He passed away 3 yr ago..he was 65..He used to be such a joker always with a ready smile and a warm welcome when visitors came..Life is so cruel. purple heart
snowytop
kiss
I had an elderly friend named Francis who I sat beside every Sunday in church for several years.She was 20 years my senior.
She was the loneliest person I have ever known.I visited her weekly at her room for tea.One night on a cold(-35F )she walked out from her room in her bed clothes and sat on a bench in front of her resthome undetected and covered herself up with a white bedsheet.They found her frozen solid at 8 a.m. the next morning.
I was thinking of her when I wrote this poem. She was in her 80's. She had prearranged her funeral.There was no service or viewing at a funeral home.She was buried in a prepaid plot in a cemetary somewhere.The mortician was sworn to secrecy as to her burial sight.Only he and her executrix know where she rests.
No one deserves to be so lonely. How sad and cruel life can be !
heart wings
snowytop
doh Please Ladybee, and eveyone else, call me Bob.I have never done anything worthy of Knighthood. Hee Hee !
Thank you however for the courtesy and respectful salutations you have offered me.It is a reflection of your character.You are worthy of respect. You have mine. thumbs up
TheKoreanGhost
Bob,
WOW!
I have always claimed to be a hard a**, but that what you wrote made a few tears come to my face. What was mentioned about the elderly lady you knew, well, that nearly finished me off. I've not cried for over 12yrs since my mum passed awaw.
Sad, fact of life, we all may grow old .
Kind regards
Charlie
snowytop
Hello Charlie:
Not all memories of the aged are sad.My grandmother became very forgetful in her senior years.She had decided to bake a cake for dinner.
When she placed it in the oven to cook, she set the timer and came into the livingroom ,for what she referred to as 40 winks.
The house began to fill with smoke not long afterwards.
Nana and Grandpa and I raced to the kitchen and saw smoke billowing out from the oven.
After turning off the oven and looking in we found that she had put all the dry ingredients into the cake pan and neglected to add the wet contents (eggs,milk etc.)
Grandpa wasn't to pleased, but Nana and I laughed many times over that cake.
Not in front of Granpa of course. rolling on the floor laughing
Nuwahri61
good onya snowy enjoyed this one .........regards n61
snowytop
Thank you for dropping by N61.
Have a great day. cool
windyweatherly
Bob just like life, it has a beginning and it has end, sadly though, it is the latter that makes us draw the draining part. Perhaps, the acceptance on dealing with it with grace would make it a little easier...My grandma died at the age of 103 and taking care of kids, three days before passing away...That was so glorious. My mom passed away at 85 and very healthy and beautiful except the medicine she took for her arthritis, killed her more than her aging terminal process...No one knows how we will definitely pass on the aging years, yet like Lady B said: we all will go through with it and yes like you said, no one should be lonely, then again, our perceptions may differ to the taker...just my opinion...Thanks for sharing
elo69
well written poem about a very real subject...thanks for sharing....elo...wave
snowytop
Hello elo: I'm pleased to make your aquaintance.Thank you for dropping by and commenting on my little poem.
Windy Thank You as well.I turned 67 this morning.I don't feel a day over 69. Hee Hee !I'm not too worried about aging.I believe in an afterlife and the saving Grace of Christ.So death isn't a worry either.
I'm at that age when so many of my friends are passing on.Several never made it to retirement.Then there are some,that like old work horses, have moved into rest homes because they can no longer manage on their own without assistance.When I visit I see them and others staring out windows or at the ceiling counting the holes in the tiles overhead.Some have visitors,but there are those who never have a friend or guest drop by.I have spoken to a few that fear death and I do my best to comfort them by letting them know what they might expect.Some listen and some scoff,but it always makes me sad to feel the lonliness they are feeling.I wrote the poem above after coming home from just such a place.



bouquet teddybear bouquet
Post Comment - Let others know what you think about this Poem
Report Abuse for this page, if inappropiate
We use cookies to ensure that you have the best experience possible on our website. Read Our Privacy Policy Here