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I must write of what I feel,
Else this life may get more surreal.
I have noted that late at night,
A wandering about, without delight,
Searching for answers of a question or so,
When I realize there is more to know.
Thought processes, that once were keen,
Are missing the connection, in between.
She knows that something is wrong,
But can't reason of where it will belong.
It frightens me, in a caring way.
I pray that the morrow, is a better day,
For her.

In my dreams, I wait for thee,
Hoping and praying, in my reverie,
You'll look my way and recognize me.
I long to hear that nice hello,
Asking about how my day did go.
In the dream your mine to please,
Unencumbered by this hateful disease.
When I awake and you're not there,
I call for you, looking everywhere.

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