Conversation

When our conversation runs amok
And thoughts are jumbled and questions
Asked about today or days past.
No semblance of day or time
Can't read a clock face at any time.
No logic or reason, causes despair,
But the questioner is not aware
And yet, when it's time for bed
The small discussions are in my head.
A question is asked, you see,
"Why is this happening to me?"
There are no tears asking for sympathy,
Just an awareness of something wrong
And in our hearts we must stay strong.