What would you think

What would you say after all this time

It’s been so long

And you never showed your hand even then

What did you think of me

Were you proud, or disappointed

And now all I’ve managed is to keep on

Holding on by broken and bloodied fingernails

Setting one increasingly shaky foot in front of the other

Getting by

And every day getting older

More fragile, more pained, sick and tired

More frightened of an ever bleaker future

Treading water but unable to swim

Borne by the current with no strength to fight it

What would you say if you could see me now?