Into The Nursing Home
We should put mother in the home without much fuss,
Move her across country to be close to us.
Nearer to us would be better for her,
Forget her friends, they’re mostly not there.
I worry so much that she might fall
Plays hell with my golf, lost my ball.
So you agree then, but she’ll have to pay,
Who cares if she knows no one, they’re half dead anyway.
Why should she get lonely, its full of old fools,
All limping and crippled, a bunch of old mules.
What do you mean it will happen to us,
I am immortal, there’ll be no such fuss.
Comments about this poem (Into The Nursing Home by Alan Bruce Thompson )
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