
Vigour has yielded to frailty,
Pain tarnishes every day,
He longs to be free of his misery –
Oh! If one could wish suffering away!
He despises his aged condition:
When he stands, his body is bent;
He cannot escape his suspicion
That the best of his days have been spent.
His voice has grown soft and he mumbles,
It’s harder to focus his mind,
He is more prone now to grumble –
His good humour has slowly declined.
His children observe the difference –
They lament the toll of the years;
What he prays for as deliverance
Will, for them, mean sorrow and tears.
For now, he sits in his armchair,
Dozing off whenever he can:
Precious little brings any pleasure
For the tired and broken old man.
Then, in an instant, he leaves them –
No more misery, no tears, no night:
He casts off his pain, finds his wings,
Becomes an angel and takes flight.
ⓒ 2018 Joanne Van Leerdam
Old Man: A Poetic Tribute To My Dad.
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Reblogged this on WordyNerdBird and commented:
I wrote most of this poem two years ago, when his health began to decline more noticeably, and the final verse on Sunday night after the passing of my father that afternoon.
Needless to say, it has been a rough week.
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I’m not exactly circling the drain yet, but I can see it from here… and your poem reminds me that our suffering does in fact end… in a way, I can’t wait!
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So tough to read because I know every word is true. I am sad for your loss, but so glad his suffering has ended. It feels so wrong that a long life must end in the misery of pain. Brava on writing this powerful poem.
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