Burdensome

I feel like I’m a burden anymore,
unable to do things I used to do.
Somebody has to drive me to the store,
and see to it I make appointments, too.
I can no longer drive because of sight;
my days of independence are now gone.
How sad the days of such diminished light,
in some ways I feel like a helpless pawn.
On kindness of my friends I now rely,
for time has taken from me what I had.
I know it does no good to sit and cry,
but feeling like a burden makes me sad.
  September now, and time is getting late:
  with heavy heart I sigh while friends await.


Shakespearean Sonnet (14 Lines)
Writer’s Cramp; September 19, 2013