Tragic Regrets
He sits there in his wheelchair with head bowed,
Hands folded acr0ss lap, ankle on knee.
Eyes closed, he breathes deeply while he dozes.
Eating breakfast took long (hard to swallow).
Men like him line retirement home hallways.
He sits there in his wheelchair with head bowed.
Today he said God left him here for me.
That thought makes me feel a little guilty.
I know he’d rather romp on golden streets,
Where he could run, walk, sing and talk clearly.
He sits there in his wheelchair with head bowed,
Wishing he’d go back two summers ago.
Then he would follow a nurse’s advice,
Go to the doc’s and get blood pressure checked.
Perhaps he could have avoided two strokes.
He sits there in his wheelchair with head bowed.
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