Conspirators

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This is the saddest, true tale I ever told

Lovely lady Mary grown feeble and old

With goal to stay at home till expired

Knew what it took as a nurse now retired.

Many greats and grands of children six

Mary was happy when watching cowboy pix

Daughters two conspired together

To make their burden light as a feather

Did not want to listen to the moans

Did not want to care for the bones

One day they met and sent Mary packing

Consultation of family sorely lacking

Crossing the line from Rights to wrong

Sent her to a nursing home with a song.

They did not hear her screams during the route

Determined to accomplish, to get her out

Off Mary went, no specs, no clothes, no phone

Wondering why she was so alone

Daughters two who pretended solace

Planned their next steps of malice

Confiscated keys for them alone

To ensure she could never go home

Landlord told Mary could not communicate

In their thoughts pushing her to the Pearly Gate.

They stepped inside her treasured abode

Looted and plundered all she owned

Never asked Mary if they could

Never thinking if they should

Took the pictures off the wall

Turned the phone off so no one could call

All of the things Mary selected and kept

They laughed at, trashed, and neglectfully swept

Took all her clothes, tossed them out

Thinking these acts gave them some clout

Determined to accomplish, did it with a song

Crossing the line from Rights to wrong.

Mary’s home, it is now just a memory

Nailing to the cross her autonomy

Leaving her with no hope, just shame

I am sure they hoped I felt the same

Puzzled why they went to such theft

To leave their mother with nothing left.

 

 

 

 

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About Poetry Road/Marty Goes to Mars

Poetry storage, genealogy research and tribute to my grandson with Down Syndrome . Creativity is my outlet--expressions in acrylics, accomplished quilter , doll maker and writer. Please visit my shop sites. Thank you for stopping in!
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