A trip out would be nice occasionally.

Another lost and leaden

hour drags itself along,

sighing at the length of

an ageing day.


Wearying hands crawl

imperceptibly around

the hours, as the clock

ticks relentlessly on.


Resigned: my gaze

confirms yet another

day, when I am forgotten,


left behind the glass

looking on. Looking out.

And I long to cry



Take me with you.

© sweetwater 2022
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I see an old person in a care home, such soul destroying places. You sum how they must feel very well.
Also reminds me of how I felt during lockdown on days when nobody called.


Love this metaphor comparing self to clock. So effective and beautifully done Sue! Who’s giving out Great Reads these days, huh? bel

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