Forget Me Not

Unable to copy that stupid clock

I become more confused

My memories are a jigsaw puzzle I can’t seem to put together

One piece in hand yet it doesn’t fit the other I placed down

It’s like my thoughts wander about like my body does in the darkness of night.

I walk about and don’t know where I am when I stop.

I don’t recall where I was and worse where I’m going

My reflection shows an old wrinkled man I don’t recognize.

Could it be my father? A stranger perhaps?

I am a young boy so I don’t quite know

Can you let me know? Please. I beg of you.

I didn’t write anything down but instead I fell down

So many wrongs I shall never right because …

What was I going to say?

My thoughts are like a scrabble game

So many letters but I can’t come up with a single word

The Z is worth ten points

What was my point?

I didn’t write anything down and I don’t remember

It’s September and it’s Spring I guess

I’m in late winter and May I use the bathroom

I must tell my father to get out of the bathroom. He is there looking old and wrinkled in the mirror.

I feel alone and I can smell the scent of the Forget Me Nots

I just want to Me Not Forget

No regrets! Who are you again?

Dementia is difficult to witness as a physician but even more so when it’s your loved one. A lot of patience is required. Don’t get frustrated but breathe. The moments of lucidity even if few are all worth it. With much love and hugs from Brooklyn.

Guady G

Who will remember you?

It’s poetry month which means try to be a poet.

Does it mean Poe try! I’m good but not like Edgar Allen Poe. Has anyone ever read his life history? He lost his parents, his wife and his jobs. He barely made it writing and then died.

I wonder who will remember us from our writing. The great thing is we are sharing our gifts with the world. We will never be forgotten for we made an etch in this world with our words.

I share with you one of my first poems written in 2nd grade. The year was 1976.

I like my car for it takes me very far. I hop in it and go after pumping gas from either Getty or Texaco.

Yup that was a long time ago. I am grateful to my teacher Miss Pepe for giving me the assignment of writing a poem. What was your first poem? How old were you? Thank you again for reading my blog.

Guady G Hugs from Brooklyn