Growing old

autumn

I never really looked at this lady.
Or notice the wrinkles appearing.
Nor that frail look of the elderly.
I didn’t see her growing old.

She is always there, energetic.
Never one to laze about, always busy.
Somewhere in time I took for granted,
That growing old didn’t include this person.

I didn’t want to see her grow old.
I’m not ready to reverse our roles.
I’m selfish, she’s tired and frail.
But still determined and independent.

When I look closely now,
I see her frailty.
I watch, ready to help.
But never taking away her dignity.

She uses her walker, she’s fast.
I scold her, she pouts.
Her time now spent on reading,
The tele and newspaper, her link to the outside.

Time cannot be stopped, only lost.
We wake up one day, years have flown.
Where has it gone, we ask.
The future is here, we’re not prepared.

How could I not see her grow old?
I took a lot of things for granted.
Then one day I looked at my Mum,
And my heart weeps for time is so very short.

By C.E. Pereira
(30-9-2013)

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Author: cepcarol

I'm a Eurasian of Portuguese, English, Scottish and Malay heritage. And my extended family are of Chinese and Indian heritage. My world is made up of different colours like the rainbow. And like the rainbow I am unique. Reading is my form of relaxation, to escape from the drudgery of daily life and enter into a world of the imagination. It is the love of reading that has led me to try my hand in writing short stories and poems. I hope that in some way my stories and poems will take you for a little while away from the drudgery of the present into the pages of imagination. To new friends found, I bid you, Welcome. Sincerely, C.E. Pereira

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