I sit in this chair staring out the window
at the same view as yesterday
I lie in my bed, staring up at the ceiling,
at a pattern that only changes when
it's light or dark. Or in my imagination

But who really cares?

I'm asked to drink from a sipper mug
with a straw, so I don't mess my shirt
Who cares if I dribble?
Yes, I opened my bowels today! Just once.
I hope that's okay.
Could you come sit with me, so we can talk plainly
about what really hurts?
Yes, I know you're busy...

Do you care that I lived a life full of joy and adventure
that once I was a teacher, a traveller, and a parent?
Do you care that my babies have grown
and I can't remember
what they look like
or what their names are?

These days, travel consists of visits
to the shower with two attentive nurses
Or excursions to the dining room if I'm up to it
And it appears I'm now the student
being taught how to use a knife and fork
No, I don't want to play bingo today

But who really cares?

Long ago I wielded the power of a father - through love, not fear
Respect was earned, not commanded
and all through those years, that love always burned
for my wife and our babes, unconditionally clear

Yet I sit in this damnable chair missing her and them;
I miss having control over me,
while I curse going to mush
Memories of being handsome,
accomplished and strong,
swamped by an inability
to hold a toothbrush

But I remember our wedding day
both of us bursting with joy at the promise
of life together
Her father giving her away to me!
Now my beautiful Lady Fair
is gone, and I don't know where

(They tell me she visits quite often
I think they lie)

Sometimes I feel like a silly old fool
who can't do anything for himself
Am I wrong? Does anyone care?

One day, it'll be someone other than me
in this damn chair
pondering on where the years went;
staring out the window at the same view
or lying in this bed - that came up for grabs
when I died - staring at that same ceiling
The pattern never changes you know

But who really cares?