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AWAY WITH THE FAIRIES
AWAY WITH THE FAIRIES
How do I know if I really have dementia
When remembering my name is the goal
Others maybe too kind to say the word
How they look, it’s what I have inferred
Less memory lapse, more a smoking hole
Perhaps I just stare, my brain in absentia
It’s much more than mere memory loss
As I inhabit my little private world inside
There are moments when it’s all in focus
Yet explanations sound like hocus-pocus
My thoughts no longer like a roaring tide
They just lap on the shore, full of dross
It has not been a sudden thing, I am sure
Just a downward slide on a helter-skelter
Everyone is always nodding and smiling
Whoever they are, they’re so beguiling
But this warm blanket offers me shelter
I have not felt quite as detached before
I’m reliving a time of my younger years
Like pulling on a loose thread of cotton
Images, as if from an old slide projector
Yet sometimes I wish I had a lie detector
It seems bits of my life I have forgotten
Right now, I cannot explain these tears
My mind says, but my body won’t obey
How can I inhabit this old wrinkled shell
There’s so many faces I do not recognise
Almost everything now is like a surprise
And why do they tell me I’m doing well
I do suspect that they have put me away
Copyright ©
Howard Osborne
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