An Insider’s Perspective in Verse

 

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Paul, who wrote this poem, has been residing in a long-term care home for two years due to a degenerative physical condition.  He has been waiting all this time for a transfer to his first choice of a long-term care home so that his husband of 38 years, who doesn’t drive, can visit him without having to travel by bus for several hours each time.  Paul now believes that, at this rate, it will take another 5 years or so before he can move to the home of his choice.   This is just heartbreaking.

IN LONG-TERM CARE   (in the style of John McCrae’s “In Flanders Fields”)
By Paul Gregory Leroux

The wait lists longer daily grow
And move excruciating slow;
We seniors have no place to go
For long-term care.

We only ask for our fair share;
But the resources aren’t there,
No room for seniors anywhere
In long-term care.

Our parents fought the war and won;
Our battle’s only just begun,
As Baby Boomers now they shun
From long-term care.

We, it seems, no longer matter.
Politicians just get fatter,
As our dreams they blithely shatter
While we despair.

Bereft of dignity and pride,
We have no hope left deep inside,
As if already we had died.
The only thing we haven’t tried
Is mass assisted suicide.
But do we dare?

More about Paul’s journey to appear in a future blog post.

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