Chailey Heritage School Old Scholars Association
WHEELCHAIR Already the cushion in my chair is sinking That sinking feeling from an old friend Who is past making comfortable talk. The arm rests tremble, with a chitter As if the metal was giving its last gasp. But we are stuck together, time Will have to stop before we part company. Nothing can stop age, man or machine Both crumble with time folding in to each other. "You need replacing" I say, patting a wheel. She creaks in protest, "Not yet" I murmur, As I stiffly push and she stiffly moves.
Annie’s Page
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