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
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.
Dear Rex,
I have just read your most amazing poem you have written about my dad.
To write this poem which paints a picture of exacly what happened.
What a wonderful talent you have, and to take the time to write this poem just blows me away.
I can,t put into words what I am feeling .
What an incredable man to devote your time to do what you have done
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart
It is as if my dad is talking through you
If I could please post your heartfelt poem to my page so all my supporters can read your wonderful Poem
So much LOVE to you Rex and thank you will never be enough xx
When Claudia told me about your dear father I recalled how my own father and mothers passing and how they were neglected as so many are Cameron and the rest of them won’t see the terrible way so many have to die and your efforts and strength will at least hopefully get to those who did actually neglect him for what ever reason The National Health was at one time the National wealth but now is a system mismanaged and the vulnerable are being affected more so than anyone else.
It was a pleasure to try and help you and your dear fathers memory what you are doing is wonderful and inspirational as you will see from strangers responding to your heartfelt pleas
It’s a true joy to know you and be of some help as you take on these corporations
Brilliantly captured the pain and pathos, beautiful, sad poem
dear Rosie It was a pleasure to answer a heartfelt plea with a poem I felt that pain that exasperation man in the winter of his life having to suffer as he did
So very tragic so very final
Thank you for this wonderful poem capturing the awful neglect of Frank’s comfort and dignity. The last verse is especially poignant.
My Dad too was not listened too as if he did not have a voice. As he was at the end of his life, his life was nolonger important.
Thanks for your lovely words imagine I think the more of us that talk to each other about our parents passing the more of us realise the older people are voiceless and if nobody is fighting for them they are neglected some not even fed properly
Oh,that is such a wonderful poem,It is such a lovely tribute to Frank and his beloved family,how you have wrote this poem….it is as if Frank was guiding you through how he felt,such a awful time for him,you have an amazing talent,such wonderful heartfelt words.
Thank you for shearing.
Lots of love to you.
Rosie.
Thank you Rosemarie Frank suffered but the angels heard him
They hear so much and say so little nobody around to hear them but Frank would have and is resting now in eternal peace
Thanks for coming on my blog and staying a while to be so positive about my work you are an angel too
X