I wrapped myself
in your old sweater;  
it wasn't the same.
I smelt your perfume,  
the scent of sweet jasmine  
had turned bittersweet.
I whispered your name too,  
I wanted to find comfort  
in your empty arms,  
but its softness is now  
just a ghost of you.  

©️Lizzie Bevis

Do you remember me old lady or am I missing from your mind.
You used to be my mother if you only could recall
but you sit here in this armchair humming tunes that no-one knows
and you can't walk without assistance, should you fall.

I've been sitting here for hours and you utter not a word,
just looking into the realms of space, what should I do?
There is no-one in this place with whom I've got a chance to chat
so I suppose I might as well stay here and chat to you.

I watch as you eat liquid meals that spill all down your front,
I mop morsels off of your face with paper towel
and all I have for this attention is to hear you passing wind
whilst your only ****** expression is a scowl.

We never ever got on, hence you living in this home
for you never did agree with me not one singular time.
Whatever I did do or say was almost always wrong
and you never bothered with me in your prime.

So I don't know why I care for you I must be totally nuts
I know you wouldn't want me here not even for a bet.
So I must have feelings for you floating somewhere in my mind
and I know that there are many things I really should forget.

Things sometime flash before me so brief they move that quick
and in all these little glimpses that must have come from God above,
they rekindle tender moments, when you were kind and so sincere
and provoke that once upon a time there must have been some love.

So then with these thoughts in my mind I will really like to say
that I am sorry for the loathing thoughts I have gathered through the years.
I will do my best to make these remaining days that little more
and will care for you my mother and keep you in my prayers.