Lost Significance, a poem

It was time for me to write another fourteen line poem and since the word of the day for The Daily Post Prompt was wheel, I thought – why not?

 

 

This isn’t where I planned to spend my days

having to wheel myself up and down a nursing room hallway

a shadow of a shadow of who I once was, or perhaps only who I thought to be

Oftentimes, I spend my time in solitude – seeking the quiet of my own breaths

for breathing becomes heavy, surrounded by unfamiliarity

people whose different lives now intersect my own

and I cannot choose who I live with, nor what I want to be

lunch comes at 12 and my pills come at 11, for everything is regimented – measured and poured

I feel I have become nothing but a number, a warm body to sleep in another cold bed

and when I pass on, I won’t be remembered – they shall move someone else in quicker than my shadow fades on their pastel wallpaper.

There was a time when I walked in my own importance – I wore a smile and a spring in my step

and I believed that who I was and what I did held some significance

as I push myself through these long days, all I can say is – things sure change, not only your perspective

There was a time, I longed to live – but as the days pass, it becomes more difficult to breathe.

 

© Sumyanna 2017

 

This poem is a fictional piece of work, though based on my experiences with those living in a nursing home nearby.  It is never easy.  They still strive like the rest of us, but you can see the disappointment in their eyes.

 

Written for The Daily Post Prompt: wheel

Image courtesy of Pixabay.com