Monday, October 12, 2009

Look at me

I have an absolute horror of nursing homes. Aubrey and I did quite a bit of volunteer work in them during the last years of his life and came to know the cruelty that is put upon the patients, especially the ones in wheelchairs who cannot defend themselves. If it ever became necessary for me to go to one, I hope someone shoots me at the front door before I go in. I watched them mistreat my mother and some friends and have first hand knowledge of the way people are treated. And they pay a huge price for the so-called care they are given in them. While visiting my mother one day, I wrote this little poem and found it on my computer this morning. I deliberately have no pictures of her in her wheelchair as I did not want to remember her that way. I want to remember her smiling and happy and not with her head down and no hope.

Look at me
By Ann Roberts

Look at me
In this wheelchair
All bent and gray
Don't just turn your eyes away
Look at me.

Touch me
I won't break if you
Just touch me.
I can still feel the touch of a friend
Oh the days without end
When no one will
Touch me

Talk to me
Don't just say
How are you and walk away.
Although I am old and gray,
I still have things to say.
Talk to me.

Look at me
Touch me
Talk to me

LOOK AT ME, look at me, look at me!

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