My old bones feel so heavy,

Sitting in my easy chair,

This world is getting colder now,

And no one seems to care.

 

Iím reaching now, my final days,

Theyíve dwindled to a few,

Each one much like the one before,

And soon they will be through.

 

At ten oíclock my son will come,

To take me to a home,

Where all Iíll do is eat and sleep,

Bathe; brush my teeth and comb.

 

I glance about my living room,

Where Iíve sat, many years,

The laughter of this room is gone,

Now all thatís here are tears.

 

All good times are, but memories,

Now faded with the past,

So soon I leave this all behind,

Who knew it wouldnít last?

 

I gaze out of my window,

To my garden Ďcrossed the lawn,

Next spring it will not matter,

As all this will then be gone.

 

Next week theyíll be an auction,

Theyíll sell all I once held dear,

My son says it will be too hard,

On me, if I am near,

 

Three years now, Iíve been alone,

Thatís when I lost my wife,

Since then, seems nothing matters,

And Iím running out of life.

 

Oh yes, I know, Iím very frail,

And I forget my pills,

Thereís many things that I canít do,

And someone pays my bills.

 

Itís just that I donít want to go,

My son says, ďDad, itís bestĒ,

ďFor there, youíll get the care you need,

And your required rest.Ē

 

Iíll get to share a twelve by twelve,

With some old man like me,

Whoíll be as sad and lonely,

As a man alone can be.

 

My things are packed, just one suitcase,

Not much for eighty years,

Now looking back, those years now spent,

My eyes are filled with tears.

 

Oh God, please call me home right now,

I do not want to go,

I want to be with my sweetheart,

Because I love her so.

 

I want to be with you dear Lord,

Let Heaven be my place,

I want to leave my world of gray,

And gaze upon Your face.

 

I packed some photos of my wife,

Inside with my few clothes,

A few mementos of our life,

With meanings, no one knows,

 

One last stroll around the house,

The bedroom, kitchen, den,

I hear my sonís car in the drive,

The clock is striking ten

used by permission
Copyright © Ron Bliss
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