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?