No Easy Answers

Tavola degli accordi #281665

fornita da Grathy

Testo:

© Grathy
What is the answer,
when her body is broken,
and she has lived way too long,
unable to decipher between
then, now, and the future?

When she is
too hard to care for,
and fingers point
in every every direction?

It’s your fault,
it’s their fault,
why don’t they
do this that or the other?

Her pristine room is decorated nicely
yet it smells like a homeless camp.

Hurried attendants don't have the time
or concern to take care,
not rewarded by their paltry pay,

So she lies feeble, incontinent,
laying in a pile of soiled sheets
unable to do for herself anymore,

Yet we keep her going,
siphoning off the resources
between all of us,
the blame continues to rotate.

Are we are not meant
to live this long?

After all,
it’s the medical institutions
who want to keep us going
to deplete our reserves,
reaping hefty profits
from extending life.

Who cares when
there is no will to be here?

I’m tired,
tossed and torn
like shredded laundry
from the continuous spin
of incessant squabbling.

It's your fault,
why didn't you,
it's always,
time to cast the blame.

Why can’t we put people down
like we do our pets?

A quick shot and then it's over.