Ata Children's Hospice Poem by Dean Bottomlley

Death haunts not these walls;
He does not wander these corridors.
No fearful figure, no threatening scythe.
Death is here, but keeps apart.

He waits at the back, inconspicuous,
Letting others take the centre stage.
Do the things they do so well
Each and every day, to value life.

Only when all is done that can be done.
When the last smile has been smiled.
When the last laugh has faded away.
Only then does death step forward.

"All has been done, my child.
Take my hand and walk with me.
There will not be anymore pain;
Now you will laugh forever in the sun."