Is This the End?

By her bed, flowers white and purple.
The colour of Death
funereal hue.
The world rushes by her
like a high-speed train.

She is left behind
thoughts muddled and dim
in her twighlit world.

Like an animal she sleeps
curled
embryonic.

Watching her it seems
her life has gone by in a wasted flash
the high-speed train never stops.

Here in this house
loneliness and sadness
overwhelming despair.
Is the end coming?
She would be glad of it.

Arrogant years
domineering days
selfish control freak
evil at times...I thought.

Shining home of beauty
stuffed with well loved possessions.
Books music flowers china.
Pristine kitchen immaculate clothes
trips to the ballet
two diamond rings
Ah! Her life and her loves.

Just tragic nothing now
her pot of dreams is empty
the hi speed-train still rushes on
and on relentless hard and cruel.

Her tortured mind is winding down
caught in her frail body.
Is the end coming?
She would be glad of it.

Words stuck inside me
an emotional maelstrom
my sadness baffles me.



Poetry by normalil
Read 613 times
Written on 2007-05-29 at 17:07

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Zoya Zaidi
Norma!!!!!!!
This is poignant!
The empathy, the compassion towards the old lady, obviously your mother, is amazing!
Tears were welling up in my eyes when I was reading it...
Life, How lovely and how cruel can it be...
When young, the world is at your feet, when old how it just avoids you and passes you by...
I suppose that is how life, like a fast train, flashes before your eyes when death is so near, you can smell it...
((((Hugs for the heartfelt write))))
Love, Zoya
2007-05-29