Day: August 25, 2026

His days speed by like cars racing on the Indy 500.
His body, with 90 years of use, is breaking down
like an ancient, outdated Ford Model T car.
He’s lost most of his hair and some of his breath.
If he falls on the floor, he cannot get up, and he
prays he never falls in the bathroom with his
head hitting the hard floor, but sometimes he
almost wishes he would as much as his life
is near nonexistence and he’s in constant pain.
Tired, as usual, he eases into an arm chair
and prays to God to take him away from his
barely tolerable, pain-ridden, miserable life.

Bob Boyd

The old man shuffles down the corridor on a walker
and wonders where his wife is who died a year ago.

He’s in a nursing home but doesn’t always know
where he is.

He’s medicated twice daily, and when he’s cognizant,
plays bingo in a well carpeted room with other

residents, whose names he sometimes remembers.
And when he’s self aware while playing bingo,

he thinks to himself —

how the hell did I come to this?

Bob Boyd