What will be left

When finally his turn is done

With what’s left of her

From the clench of

His vice like grip

Dripping with plaque

Will we get there in time?

Will she still be alive?

If we bring the non-doctors

And tell her to please not cry

That everything will be alright

Once we free her from his wretched control

Will there be nothing left of our selfless Mother,

and the only home that we know?