Half-Life, With Pictures Poem by John F. McCullagh

She lives with one of her daughters now;
too old, too frail to be alone.
She's grateful, of course, but at times
She finds herself longing to be back in her old home.

This would have never happened to her,
But something happened in her husband's heart.
The fine print in every wedding vow reminds us
that the Love is only good until we part.

So now each day she sits, alone,
far from the friends and neighbors that she knew.
She sits and hopes, perhaps, the phone will ring.
She hopes and prays for something else to do.

Sometimes she finds herself staring at his picture,
with somewhat of an accusatory stare.
"It's not easy living, this half-life with pictures."
She mutters to the Half no longer there.