They flow down cheeks satin thin and lined with age, and from eyes faded in color and disguised with cataracts.

My shoulders are pulled down, my back no longer straight.

My mind seeks to find the reason for the years gone by, for family and friends, for these tears I shed.

Now here I sit. My hands are gnarled and my body has shrunk ‘within itself’.

I lift an arm to you in a pleading gesture; for what, I am not sure.

My hand would grasp your own and share your day of youth.

Will you take a moment to hold my hand and understand, if only for a moment, that I cry for all I once was?

I cry for the dreams that were only dreams and the tomorrows that come all too soon.

I sit in this nursing home not truly seen by those passing by.

You see only an elderly soul who cries for unknown reasons. You think “How sad”, and then go on your way.

You are so busy rushing into the next moment. What will tomorrow hold for you?

(This was printed out, framed and hung in a nursing home and also in a home for ‘assisted living’ with an Alzheimer’s unit. Both these places are near my home)