Journey’s End   

Linda Ducharme

You see me as this hopeless mess,
a worn out husk or shell.
I’m stuck here for these last long days.
Please don’t prolong this hell

I’m in right now. I can’t escape
this slow and painful death.
Just ease for me these endless hours
until my final breath.

I, too, was young and carefree once
and laughed at all life’s woes.
I, too, was once a much-loved child,
though none of that now shows.

I led some men a merry dance
and flirted with a few.
I held a new-born babe of mine
with skin as fresh as dew.

I once was young and pretty.
I once was wild and free.
But now I lie in these white sheets
and you must tend to me.

God bless you as you pause to speak,
and, always with your smile,
you help to ease my weary days
as I trudge this final mile.

There is no way my soul can reach
to let you know how much
I really need your gentleness,
the kindness of your touch.

My soul is yearning now to leave
this worn-out, Earth-bound shell.
Your patient, kind and selfless care
means more than I can tell.

Forgive me when my body fails
to do what I would ask.
To clean it, turn it, try to feed it
is now your daily task.

I don’t mean to be a burden.
I don’t mean to moan and weep.
These last few months –– so hard to bear
till I sleep my final sleep.

My wrinkled skin, my withered brow,
my wasted flesh and bone
aren’t all that there is left of me,
the best part’s going home.

When finally I’m released from this
hard bed, these pain-filled days,
the Lord will grant me peace at last
to tread the heavenly ways.