Poetry – Dementia

My head is in muddle,

my words are in a blur.

I see things in the shadows,

but nothing is really there.

I have no concept of time,

or even words I have said.

I don’t recognize my children,

which makes me full of dread.

Even worse people don’t understand,

the pure confusion I feel.

I know that I am me,

but “ME” at times seems surreal.

I shout instead of talking,

but my volume is at loud.

I used to be respected,

eloquent and even proud.

Each day I seem to worsen,

falling further than in reach.

I am losing my lifeline,

as quickly I reach the deep.

Copyright © Elle Smith



 

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