We missed the snow this winter
It did not fall at all
The cold that we expected
Never came to call
But then we would not see it
For we are trapped inside
In a place of boredom
With not a spot to hide
Our world is now a few rooms
Where all our memories dwell
And sometimes in the morning
I think we’ve gone to hell
Breakfast, lunch and dinner
All just have their time
No way that we can deviate
For that would be a crime
On good days there’s visit
With nothing to convey
Just an endless silence
How did it end this way
We’ve gone right passed our sell by date
Our time is on the wane
But how we wish for yesterday
When we were in life’s game.
I wrote this after a visit to a retirement home….
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