What is love? To the old, the vulnerable and the weak? Take our hand and lead us to salvation, give your love for love is everlasting and remember the truth that once was spoken, to love another person Is to see the face of God.
How happy is the sailor's life, from coast to coast to roam; in every port he finds a wife, in every land a home. That's it, that's it, that's all we remember but all ends in this mad, mad world, when we are left with just four walls to bear, after roaming this world with freedom. that's it, that's queer.
It may be a cliché to say that a picture speaks a thousand words, but that doesn't mean it isn't true. But the engulfing saga about these thousand words is when the same picture is reloaded over and over again. Years, yes when we are, without choice, left in the confinements of institutions, led by incompetent Wall Street beings; to hear the same voices and to see the same images over weighs the love and care we deserve.
Valor, glory, firmness, skill, generosity, steadiness in caring and ability to safeguard; these constitute the duty of a carer. But love comes from friends and relations. God bless a carer but where is family, a friend or a stranger to hold our hands. We need a hug.
When you rejoice and feast upon the coming days, remember, we are kept in isolation, most of the times ignored or overlooked. We are the ones that sit in one corner all day long, bless you, for the thought that we live in our own homes or in the secured older people's home, pensioners house, rest home, whatever, but our bums hurts, our ears ache and our sore eyes are tired of constant boredom.
Did you call us friends? Relatives? Left in a penitentiary or is it a purgatory? All we feel is desertion within four walls. We consider here a mad world, come and see that on our tired faces.
Consequently, the obvious and the trite have measures that might definitely concur negative outcomes upon communications and needs, which would excessively pressure risks on our good health, (yeah right) good health? Our health, don't forget we've already acquired everything the doctors have names for. We are worried and we feel kind of sad.
The person who has nothing to brag about but their ancestors is like a potato; the best part of them is underground. Don't forget who will be here when we are gone.
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