Sorry, I wasn’t always there for you.
I’m sorry for your life of misery.
I’m so sorry, for writing this unhappy story.
And I couldn’t find your holy grail.
That sacred cup of water to cure the frail.
Sorry I couldn’t help or heal you.
I’m sorry for your life being wrong.
I’m so sorry, for playing this wordless song.
And I couldn’t find your holy grail.
That sacred cup of wine to cure the frail.
Sorry I didn’t travel every path for you.
I’m sorry for your life’s that’s lost.
I’m so sorry, for holding this worthless cross.
And I couldn’t find your golden grail.
That sacred cup of blood to cure the frail.
Sorry I couldn’t be stronger for you.
I’m sorry, for your lonely life with me.
I’m very sorry, for walking on an empty sea.
And I couldn’t find your silver grail.
The angel’s vessel of purity, to no avail.
An old poem I wrote, when I was feeling guilty about my capabilities as a carer. I’m posting here, and thinking someone in a similar situation may read these words. Please do not feel guilty or inadequate, you’re not failing, and there’s really only so much that is possible. You’re not alone in having these insecure feelings, and please understand, us carer’s all go through these self doubts and confusing thoughts.
Ivor Steven.
