Eyam Dale House

 

The presence of a wheeled toilet

Marks ones last final days

So cruel is the death of life

Not its presence, but the

Nature of its decent upon a frail frame

 

Too alive to die, but to dead to live,

A period of limbo, ironic purgatory

Somewhere in-between

 

To fight to live proves pointless, yet

To fight to die, madness! And so we

Wait and we care and we bathe,

 

The frail frames of the old.

And nurse them to their coffins.