The suffering of the old is hidden from view
None so blind as those who can not see
How cruel the world indifferent yet to me
My face is frozen killing any clue.
The colours of the heart are mainly blue.
Sister, sister do you not agree.?
The suffering and the dying not on cue
From the desert of the aged flee.
I wonder whether God asks who are you?
God has got dementia yet is free
The suffering of the old enrages few
A play on words amusing I shall sue