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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Death · #2236968
They knew my father was going to die. Was it wrong that it was a relief for us both?
The nursing home called
Concerned for my father
Who, from this moment on...
Shall be referred to, as Daddy

So, Daddy is in the chair of no return
It's where we all end up
Some sooner than others
And the very lucky get hit by a bus
Or die tragically in a skiing accident
As for the rest of us...
The chair awaits

At least dementia takes away the realisation
When in that moment of clarity
Screaming, “Kill me, please!”
But then it is gone...
And like a scratch on a record
Over and over...
Until death finally brings relief

That's a blessing
For all those who end up in a place
Where staring at the walls...
Is as good as it gets
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