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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1492747
A short and kind of sad story I wrote while thinking about my Grandmother
“Retirement Home”

I sit and wonder why

No one’s come to see me.

I lay down and pass the time

By staring at the ceiling.

The faces of my family faintly fade away.

I’m waiting for my turn; maybe it’s today.

When he comes for me you know I won’t be afraid,

I’ll just be sad, that no one came to stay.
© Copyright 2008 Marty Edwards (maedwards87 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1492747-Retirement-Home