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Dear Old Age,
It seems just yesterday that I was only a kid, and played in the garden with my parents. It seems just yesterday!
Now I feel lonely and desperate: nobody loves me! I don’t think I deserve to end my days so lonesome. I have given the best of myself to help others, but now no-one appears to remember this: I’m a burden to them!
It seems just yesterday that I felt protected, mollycoddled. What’s happened? What did I do wrong, dear Old Age? What did I do wrong?
Now that my days are numbered, now that I need to be looked after, I’m very isolated. Dear Old Age, what did I do wrong?
Now that I’m sinking into the unknown, now that I’m on the brink of death, I have to take this alone, dear Old Age, but why? I don’t think I deserve this. Why, dear Old Age?
If only you could give me a piece of advice to face up to the inevitable; if only you could stop my suffering, dear Old Age. It’s the only thing I ask for now: I’ve lost all hope of recovery, and I’m completely alone. Help me, please! Help me!
Miquel Molina i Diez (miquel@polseguera.com)
(I dedicate this piece of writing to my parents, and would like to thank them for all they have done for me: I will never be able to repay them, but I suppose I’ll do the same for my children, if I ever have.)
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Piece of writing and poem by Miquel Molina i Diez: |
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