They left you where you had fallen
against your pane
like a sparrow deceived in flight
with your delicate frail wings
folded limply to your side
your eyes closed to the world
I felt anger rise
at the feckless efforts
to protect you
from the inmates
the simple monsters
shuffling the halls in drugged trances
into each others rooms
to pilfer cigarettes or money, or
a grope of your gaunt flesh
I stood at the foot of your bed
staring down at you for the last time
crying through my shame
through my lucid realization
of abandonment
I vindicate myself now
with these failing words
imagining your soft quivering voice
at the foot of my bed
forgiving me for living
with less pain.
George Murdock
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mother-19/
