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Poem

Your disconsolate hollow eyes continue to stare straight through me
Your mind has transformed loved ones into strangers
You see only a haze of people coming and going
Words whispered affect you not
Nothing spoken can affect the puzzle left unsolved in your mind
The missing pieces are designed to shut people out
And although I fail each day to recover the absent pieces
I Persist.
Each day your once colourful portrait grows dark with age and sorrow
Failed attempts to add a dash of yellow
Yet still I stay here waiting for the brief minute or so when you'll notice I’m here.
You'll smile innocently and ask me when I arrived.
I'll play along as I hold your hand and lie to protect you; 'I just got here Mom'
For a minute your colourful portrait peeks at me from its cobwebbed corner
But happiness is futile
You leave no sooner than you arrive
In my hand yours suddenly grows limp
Your smile retracts 
Your eyes grow hollow once more
And you no longer know who I am
Contemplations of leaving you alone cloud my psyche
My tattered soul is constantly frayed by the devastation caused by your lassitude.
Turning my back on you I only ever make it to the door; never once have I opened it
My fingers grasp the cold brass though I cannot turn the knob
Tears blur my vision and I return to my chair beside your bed
Waiting faithfully for the brief minute in which you return,
Knowing I’d rather have just a minute with you, than no time at all.

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