Pay the Price



Forever Young
She sits at the window
Her head bent to her chest.
Her body; adversary, foe
She hopes for death, at best.
Saliva trickles from her lopsided mouth,
Drifting aimlessly towards her twisted hand.
She tries to shout,
What’s the use, no one understands.

In her blue eyes,
Sometimes I see,
A glimpse of the person
She used to be.
A young feisty girl
With dreams in her head.
Her whole life to unfurl
Nothing to be left unsaid.

But fate gave her another role
To sweat, to toil
Drunken fools to cajole.
Her dreams to soil.
Fate turns once more
Carer is now patient
Her body shook to the core
So much is latent.

She once gave me this piece of advice,
A gift of wisdom, wrapped in regret,
“Be true to yourself or pay the price.”

I promised her I would not forget.

Charlie Stinchcomb / Foter / CC BY


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