They love to walk;
They love to talk;
They need our care;
Some only stare!
Some are alone;
No one will phone;
No one will feed,
Or clothe them indeed.
Their minds have fears;
Left by their dears;
Their face won’t show,
Heart’s anguish, oh!
They have gone aged;
They are now caged;
Some are diseased;
Some lives have ceased.
Weak is their frame;
Some are now lame;
They’re a burden;
None will them gladden.
Not all are quite lucky;
Some are mere orphans;
Some get a phone-call;
Most trip and fall.
This is their sad plight;
Their eyes have bad sight;
And when they fall ill,
Their course is downhill!
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