There He Sits

There he sits, eyes glazed over,
Unmoving, silent,
Not even a blink,
From his dull, unseeing eyes.

We do not know if he knows
What we say or do to help him
Through his silence,
Through his loneliness.

He never thanks us, or even says a word,
To acknowledge what we do.
He cannot let us know,
How much we really help.

Sometimes he will grunt,
But we know that it means nothing,
That it is only,
A trick of fate.

His wheelchair remains motionless,
He does not wish to move,
Or if he does,
How could we tell?

His skin is pale, hair lank,
He does not care to bathe.
He never sees a soul, why would he?
He has no one in this world.

His body has betrayed him,
Left him to fight this on his own,
He drools,
Because he has nothing better to do.

There he sits, day in and out,
Unmoving, alone,
Not even a blink,
From his dull, unseeing eyes.

Copyright 2008 by Rebecca Norman