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Senility

The mumblings of day’s gone bye
A living memory of a life ending
Unable to recapture the joy of time and place
The meanderings of a mind wandering,
Through labyrinths of jumbled memories.
The treasures of a lifetime soon exposed;
Silent, tolerant nods, as heads turn away
Not understanding the inner cry for recognition
A life well spent, vulnerable now to senility and time.
Shaking, sagging, arthritic creaking bones,
Holding within the tears and joys of yesteryear.
Childhood with its anticipation, grasping for life.
The fruitless dreams of idealistic youth,
The reality of living, the striving to survive.
Tired old eyes that tell of tragedy and hope,
Mumblings of faded memories and shattered dreams;
Family, friends, passed away, forgotten ones alive,
In a shoe box of memorabilia, of all that used to be;
Faded photos, letters, cards, a child’s lock of hair.
Faces constantly dutifully drifting in and out,
Strangers attending, no time for understanding,
To offer solace to the remnants of a life already spent.
In the midst of living, why are we so unaware?
How delicately life is balanced, years set all awry
In the ramblings of a bag of bones, senility and time.

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