Beckoned by a familiar reflection

You take pause and summon a recollection

Of the well-known routine apparition

Yet you pause with trepidation.


What remains is an encasement, an acquaintance,

A fragmented and blurred resemblance

 Of the entity once identified as Mom, Me, Grandma & Sis.

Has it really come to this?


Ability and agility and every capability

Instantaneously transformed into barbarous fragility

A reluctant instability,   maimed with one doctor’s call.


The body tendered resignation

Oh what degradation

To have such lack of co-operation

From digestion to elimination,

Reluctantly subjected to mortal impersonation.


Forced to rely on a system driven by capitalization,

Fear of law suits, job loss and accusation

Impeding quality of care, well-earned and deserved by our aging population


When we truly need help – we are alone

No one prepared to answer the phone – when we call




Fend for yourself – it’s the expectation.

In a world of telecommunication constipation,

Message interception, precipitating health care intervention.

Dependability deprived, abandonment enhanced,

A society too blinded by its own intrinsic materialism

To notice its neglect of philanthropic realism.


A system fraught with challenges, complaints and legislation

Financial burdens and obligations,

Misguided decisions and formulations.

Driven by fear of condemnation, repercussion and termination,


Here, humanitarianism lies in eternal hibernation

Will they finally wake from their dumbfounded slumber with humiliation?

Or simply freeze to death with the realization of the resultant devastation?


When is too little simply too late?


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