And so it goes...

Let me tell you about my day

and perhaps I shall not be judged that way

My day starts at 4:00am when I hear her rustling about

I prepare her breakfast and hope that she eats on her own

I feed her if she does not want to

I clean up after her and go downstairs to do her laundry

keeping silent as I wash her urine-drenched clothes and sheets

I give her a shower in spite of her anger

I change her diaper and hope that it would be a good day

I wash her when she has feces all over her

I clean when she has left a trail of excrement on the floor

while I muster everything for me not to gag or cry

I serve her meals on time and hope that she eats

as I sneak for awhile to freshen myself

I clean up after her and check the time

Half of the day has already gone by

The rest of the day is spent

on answering endless questions repeatedly

Of assisting her walk to and fro when sleep is lost to her

Of taking in her anger when I become her target of wrath

and when she decides to eat the food I give her in the afternoon

there is a certain happiness in me

for it means that I do not have to pick-up the pieces

when she decides to throw those at me

During night time there is not much difference

as days and nights seemed no different to her

A goodnight's sleep is but a rare gift

Sleep is not even a reprieve

When the sun rises to a new morning

my day would begin again...

No this is not my profession

I do not get paid

I care for my grandmother

Without asking anything for myself

So please forgive me If at times I cry or complain

Give me some leeway for I get weary and tired

I feel battered and bruised from deep inside.