Richard Lamoureux Poet Quatrain

Pickpocket

I started with so many
My pockets overflowed
All those many memories
From the past that I had sowed

Then there came a silent thief
A pickpocket in disguise
Taking precious memories
Before I realized

Now my pockets are empty
I see faces I don't know
Grasping for recognition
From my mind it does not flow

Just a body in a room
With fleeting thoughts in my head
Pockets filled with emptiness
I'm among the living dead 

What happend to all my love
Did he throw it all away
Or is it waiting somewhere 
To collect some future day

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Arlene Smith June 16, 2014 at 10:52 AM Wow, Richard! This is outstanding!!. One of those.,"wish I had thought of that" moments.. Hugs. Arlene..

Andrea Dietrich January 15, 2014 at 6:37 PM YOu asked me to see this one, and Oh my GOSH. What happened to my comment?? I saw this last night I think it was. And I could swear I commented!!! This is fantastic, Richard. so sad, and MY kind of poetry! Richard Lamoureux January 15, 2014 at 6:51 PM Thanks Andrea, I'm pleased you like it. Have a good night.

Joseph Matose January 14, 2014 at 11:33 AM Well-written poem. Thanks for sharing. JM Richard Lamoureux January 14, 2014 at 4:36 PM Thanks Joseph.

Carol Eastman January 12, 2014 at 11:21 AM A touching write of something that effects so many... I often had memory loss... but am grateful it's only epilepsy... and all comes back... Had it all my life when stressed out... You should have seen me taking tests at school! Hit me often then! Strangely, nobody noticed my problem. But probably because no one noticed me. I carried my books because couldn't remember my locker or combination. So everyone thought I was smart and stayed away. Silly people... I was as invisible as my memory! Richard Lamoureux January 14, 2014 at 4:38 PM You are certainly not invisible now. I have some pretty bad school memories as well. Bieng an adult has been far more rewarding.

Roy Jerden January 11, 2014 at 11:40 AM A better description of dementia couldn't be made. There are those despair moments of clarity when the affected person sees it themselves. Hell. Cheers, Roy Richard Lamoureux January 11, 2014 at 1:09 PM I remember that with my grandpa. Thanks for commenting Roy.

Sameh Wahid January 11, 2014 at 9:16 AM Time is a real pickpocket & a malignant thief! I do really hope we all realize that & take advantage of every moment in our lives.. Perfect poem! Richard Lamoureux January 11, 2014 at 9:21 AM Thanks Sameh, I appreciate the visit and comment.

Monterey Sirak January 10, 2014 at 9:33 AM Very imaginative and creatively written. I am wondering, is Time the pickpocket? Richard Lamoureux January 10, 2014 at 9:52 AM Alzeimers, both my grand parents were afflicted.

David Fisher January 9, 2014 at 9:50 PM What a clever way to use the title word. Must have been fun to write once you had the theme. Enjoyed! Richard Lamoureux January 10, 2014 at 7:47 AM Yes and difficult as well.

Ilene Bauer January 9, 2014 at 5:15 PM very clever imagery here! Richard Lamoureux January 10, 2014 at 7:48 AM Thanks ilene.

Eileen Manassian January 9, 2014 at 9:47 AM Richard.....was waiting for a new one.....What a sense of loss and longing.....It tugs at my heart. May this never ever befall you......EVER Eileen Manassian January 9, 2014 at 10:19 AM I sure hope so, Richard......I sure hope so...... Richard Lamoureux January 9, 2014 at 10:10 AM Thanks Eileen, I hope as well. Both my grandparents had Alzheimers so I do have some concearn. Perhaps by continuing to write I can keep increasing my synapses. Eileen Manassian January 9, 2014 at 9:49 AM Reread it.........ONE OF YOUR BEST....OH, but may it never come to pass