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,
but,
For my Mum,
Who died three years earlier.
Peace at last.




Poetry by Mick Bean
Read 288 times
Written on 2016-11-14 at 21:33

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John holliday
Wow powerful words.....everyone hit the target.....
2017-12-29


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is a fine, touching poem.
2016-11-17


Kathy Lockhart
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.
2016-11-16