Peace at last

I should have cried,
When my Mother died,
I didnít,
I should have wept,
Instead I slept,
Peace at last.
Three years earlier,
He came knocking on the door,
Mr Alzheimerís pointed its finger,
At my Mum.
A wretched women grew from itís gift,
She cried and swore,
Shit herself and more,
My Mum died before she fell,
She escaped that horrid evil shell.
I didn't cry,
Or wave bye bye,
Peace at last,
Not for me,
For my Mum,
Who died three years earlier.
Peace at last.

Poetry by Mick Bean
Read 336 times
Written on 2016-11-14 at 21:33

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John holliday
Wow powerful words.....everyone hit the target.....

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is a fine, touching poem.

Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
Alzheimer's Disease is a horrible, evil plague upon anyone or family which it attacks and consumes. I watched it take my father-n-law. It is wicked. It was a relief for all involved when death finally came and released him from his ravaged body.

This poem says so much about your and your mother's battles.