© 2020 Barbara Grace Lake

Of all I know or sense or feel
There’s nothing in this world
That makes me feel so small
Of no importance, trivial
As when a friend is facing death

My issues do not, cannot count
But still for those I plead
My enemy is strong
I ask relief from suffering
But mine is pain not end of life

Those plead are young, deserving more
I’m almost eighty-nine
My tale’s both long and full
Still helpless, passively I watch
As silent they reluctant pass