My hands are dry and withered
My hair all tangled and gray
My eyes show no emotion
My mouth has nothing to say
I sit in this chair for hours
I lay in bed unable to turn
I don't like you feeding me
I have pants so wet, I burn
You think I can't hear you
You think I am not aware
You think I am just one more
You think I don't really care
My child, I see you clearly
My child, I hear your voice
My child, I am a burden
My child, I have no choice
Forseeing this generation
Praying before you were born
I knew I'd be at your mercy
And not be treated with scorn
©S. Austin Vincoski
