They Call it Dementia

Most of the time he faces
the familiar with doubt.

Memory seems to diminish daily,
while confusion and fear only increase.

There are rare moments when he
knows with certainty who he is.

It is at these times he will cry.

So lonesome I could cry

So lonesome I could cry (Photo credit: lanier67)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For the Poets United Vice/Versa prompt.

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9 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

9 responses to “They Call it Dementia

  1. Oh, Mark, this is very sad. The emotion of that last line expresses the pain of KNOWING what is happening…..so well, so very welll.

  2. I remember when my mother had those moments of clarity, sorry I can’t comment more.

  3. This is very strong Mark. That last line is like a knife.

  4. “There are rare moments when he
    knows with certainty who he is.
    It is at these times he will cry.”

    Oh wow, this is heartbreaking.

  5. Noah Matthews

    Very moving.

  6. Mark, you have put your finger on the most painful spot.

  7. Saints preserve us from such an end.

  8. Having witnessed the cruelty of dementia at first hand I found this poem moving and deeply evocative.

  9. I’m travelling that road with my own parents right now.Just picked mom up from adult day care. Your poem offers dignity to those who suffer.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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