His passing wasn’t easy

listen to my dear old Dad
To his last hours on earth
93 years old he was
Since his mum gave birth
Blind and deaf and helpless
And in a lot of pain
They promised they wouldn’t neglect him
Nor put him through the strain

He was diagnosed with a brain tumour
His suffering was immense
He was fine upstanding man
And a war hero with a sense
Of valour in his veins
He had fought, for his country
When called upon to be
He Gave so much of himself
In the end he could not free

Himself. From the awful terror
The pain it was too much
His daughter fought to save him
For the staff seemed out of touch
She recorded his sorrow
Heart wrenching it was too
And this was in the hospital
That his nightmare came true

A proud man,humiliated
Crushed in many ways
Left to cry his heart out
In those final days
Humbled and broken spirited
In darkness all he knew
And the pain and terrible suffering
Until his life was through

The hospital have told his daughter
They nursed him till the end
They never did neglect him
They acted as his friend
The problem sadly that the truth
Is many people die
Neglected by a system
Where so many rely

They have paid their national insurance
And when they need to draw
Nobody is there for them
The deal they get is raw
Their suffering is evident
Their agony we hear
We go to meet our maker
In unbelievable fear

FRANK Foster took his last steps
His suffering we hear
When he was fighting for his country
It was very clear
Alone the battle it was drawn
The ravages the pain
The terrible dejection
The gravity the strain

Listening to frank
Who is unaware
His disenchantment
His bitterness
The pathos
It was there
We felt it
It was intolerable
How nursing staff can feel
They are able to say neglect
Was never ever real

The endurance that a soldier feels
The sentience the soul
When ones old eyes cannot see
Ones body can’t control
The invidious persuasion
The hospital stands by
It’s effectiveness and it’s courtesy
But hearing Frank we sigh

Collectively we feel his pain
His disappointment too
Lying feeling helpless
Not knowing what to do
Suffering so very much
Trying to cry out
Hopeful for some respite
Why else does one shout

The National Health it let him down
In his dying hours
Clutching for assistance
Hopeful that the powers
To be would soon enable
A peaceful energy
So he could drift off like a bird
On high, painlessly

But it was not to happen
He could not be heard
Despite his cries apparently
No one heard a word

About Rex Tyler

I love animals. I enjoy writing poetry and delivering speeches.I like to mentor people who need help in preparing speeches and evaluations.I enjoy travel although it is much harder for me these days.I so enjoyed the Andes Mountains and Volcanoes and the Quichua people who live and thrive there.I have lots of friends around the world.
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