A poem about my mother who is still in hospital after a fall at home.
I wonder what goes through mum’s head
Has she just lays there in her bed.
She’s been there now for fourteen weeks.
Her mind half wanders when she speaks.
She tripped upon the kitchen mat
Went right over and laid flat.
She lay there for an hour or more
Before the paramedics reached her door
They took her in and fixed her hip
That she had broken in her slip
And even put her on a drip
Then put her in a bed to kip
Now fourteen weeks have passed today
She should be well healed, and out to play
But seems she is in bed to stay
Poor mum why are you not well today?
I know your age, it is a factor.
You’ll never be fit to drive a tractor
But walk you should, if you are able
Or at least, you should sit at a table.
So come on mum get out of bed
Please use your legs, the doctor said
If you just try, it can be done
But I guess you’ve just given up the gun.
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