Our quality of life
Who’s to decide
In nursing homes
Where many reside
The place is expensive
But some children pay
And many will visit
Their parents each day
Confined to a wheelchair
They broke their neck
Unable to move
From a car wreck
Although they can hear
And they can still see
A difficult life
But some won’t agree
They suffered abuse
Their lives are scarred
Some won’t give up
Though life is so hard
What about people
Who live on the street
Begging for money
For something to eat
Can they be happy
Searching through trash
Or buying liquor
With so little cash
A single mother
Making ends meet
Working two jobs
So her children can eat
With so much to do
She can’t get much rest
Her life is real hard
Yet she feels blessed
Those on death row
Year after year
Alone in their cells
Death they do fear
They don’t seem to mind
They’d still rather wait
Alone in their cells
Aware of their fate
Then there are those
So deeply depressed
Who don’t cook or clean
And often aren’t dressed
Their family’s confused
Their loved on is sad
They have a nice home
But think life is bad
An unwanted child
She made a mistake
Her life will be ruined
Its life she will take
Our quality of life
There’s no guarantee
It can start off good
Then change drastically
By, Randee Saber 2/20/06
