I'm leaving you to die...

I hold your bony body
delicately, like brittle china
the faint odour of age
wafts across my nostrils.
I clear a space in your crowded bed
Amidst the bundles of
old diaries, religious books
medicines and snuff boxes.
I ignore the stains on the
yellowed bed sheet and sit down.
Grandfather, it's wonderful to see you.
You peer at me
through cataract cloudy, scratchy eyes
Beam a radiant, toothless smule.
Your eyes moisten,
voice thickens, breaks.
Bhalo theko, bhalo theko (stay good)
you repeat endlessly.
I pretend not to notice
the tea cup swarming with flies.
The over ripe rotten banaa
lying abandoned beside you.
I presume it's your breakfast.
I know they are not treating you well.
Throwing crumbs
like to a dog
Living it up in your house
and pushing you into a dark corner.
But who am i to censure them?
Who am i to sit on moral judgement?
I'm not doing anything either
except visit you and
offer sympathies.
But that's not what you want, is it?
I should take you away with me
give you the dignity you deserve
in old age.
Make your last days happy.
But i dont.
I'm taking the easy way out too.
I'm leaving you to die.