Madness Becomes You
• 04/17/23 at 09:23PM •Madness, becomes you,
she said to me.
I write these words,
thinking only of thee.
My mind in a twirl,
longing to be,
with you again,
though you don't like me.
Retired for many years and now re-discovering some writings, from long ago, along with new endeavor to help save my soul.
Madness, becomes you,
she said to me.
I write these words,
thinking only of thee.
My mind in a twirl,
longing to be,
with you again,
though you don't like me.
He was no longer here.
He no longer came.
I feel quite badly,
not remembering his name.
I see many people,
many looking the same,
but I still have an issue,
not remembering his name.
Perhaps, you have seen,
all those who remain,
to me it's a mystery,
not remembering his name.
Many the evening,
ignorance was to blame
as I keep struggling,
not remembering his name.
I was sitting, in the back,
corner of this old "watering hole."
Young and single, was I.
Alone, for the first time, in my young life.
Looking for adventure, knowing not
what to expect, when a young lady
approached me saying, "You know dancing
is free?
That began my evening of learning to dance,
While, in my heart I wanted romance.
Please understand when I tell you this tale,
it was a make-believe story, about what
I thought would be the way my life
would look to thee.
He arrives for breakfast,
I do know his name.
Recognize his clothing.
It's always the same.
Pajama bottoms, pattern I see,
are the same,
morning or night.
Perhaps, that's his only attire?
PJ's, a safe way to go.
I've seen her 10 months.
Always the same clothes.
May have others, I suppose.
Time flows bye here,
quicker, when thee,
count in numbers,
one, two, three.
Do you remember,
last Fall?
Twas the biggest event
at the Caretakers Ball.
The dances were many
which wasn't all,
for the younger couple
would expect us to fall.
Have you heard,
a songbird sing,
when in flight,
not on a wing?
Imagine the sound
a sharp, sharp trill,
when you listen for
a singing Whippoorwill.
If you relax and
don't be in a rush,
you may hear a song,
of a small thrush.
What must I do,
what can I say,
when my desire,
is to stay away.
The pain I feel,
the emotion in play,
keeps telling me,
to stay away.
Our oldest son visits,
in a week, just one day.
She saw him on Easter,
she looked away.
She does that to me,
every visiting day.
She knows not her son,
his hurt won't go away.
My love and emotion,
worn on my sleeve,
Alzheimer Disease,
stays, will never leave.
The Sun will rise tomorrow,
no matter where we are.
Keep your life travelling,
by plane, ship or car.
Try a new adventure,
do it now, don't be late
for if you want to travel,
don't be left at the gate.
Why do we exist,
where memories are of pain,
scarring our Soul,
we are unable to explain.
Why, is a person we love,
repeats over again,
a loss of memory,
nothing will remain.
There are no days,
of just hugs or sighs,
only the sad days
of the long goodbye.
When the life you are living,
no longer feels, cool,
you should change your habits,
stop being everybody's fool.
We have friends who love us,
practicing the "Golden Rule."
others will only love us,
from jealousy of being cruel.
Those who stay with you,
no matter your present life,
cherish them, your true friends,
who love when good or in strife.
Who said,
"Don't worry,
it's a new day?"
When Love
is in bloom,
what ever
day you say.