I will no longer allow, myself to succumb,
To that path, when I was young,
Fearing not, if I lived or died,
For it mattered not, if I tried
To have drinks, dance or race cars,
Beneath the dark sky, with sparkling stars.
My memories, of these events, grow dim;
My youth, is no longer a whim
Or fancy affair of daring, so odd,
As I have now, finally found God.
Praise the Lord, for these wonderful things,
As I truly do live amongst kings,
With friends, of long standing, near,
No longer, is it death I fear.

The time draws close these days I'm alive
for in a few days I will be eighty-five.
An age I never thought I would see
with my youthful display of debauchery.
Chasing women, drinking wine in cars,
spending many hours, drinking in bars.
But in my defense, I started to run
and realized, in running, I was still having fun.
More fun than anything, that I did before,
except playing soccer when a header I did score.

The scurrying of paws
across the floor,
meant that I wasn't alone,
not anymore.
Creatures with claws, gathered
to leap,
so I rose unsteadily
to my aged, old feet.
Turning around, I had a glance
seeing my two grand dogs
starting to prance.
Glad to see me, at least on that day
and they came up to me
as if to say, " we miss you grandpa"
please throw the ball today.

Oh my God, I think I see,
Dementia will be the death of me.
Not because I'm infected so,
But it has attacked someone I know