I’m hanging by a thin thread.
I am failing all the test in my path.
I see fear and anger in her eyes.
Mine shows impatience and defeat.
I’m a stranger she sees everyday.
Fear and anger her companions.
A moment of clarity, so fleeting.
I see my future self in her.
I question God. I plead my case.
I make everything about me.
How much more selfish can I get?
I want time to rewind to before.
In the bedroom, she’s a prisoner.
Her mind sees a hospital room.
She demands to go home, angry.
I tell her she’s already at home.
She screams, shaking the bed rails.
Softly, I try to calm her. She screams.
I raise my voice, my tone rises high.
And made her cringe in fear.
She looks so confused, so lost.
Pleading, she calls for me.
Yet, I’m the stranger she sees.
I leave the room. I need time, away.
I no longer exist. What now?
I am everyone else except me.
Yet, she remembers my full name.
Can anyone explain the irony of this?
By C.E. Pereira
(12-5-2020)
HoneyGwhiz 
Try to do your best,
Don’t be upset Cepcarol,
You’ll be okay tomorrow,
If you put love in your heart.
I’m sure your heart is full of love.
Love will make you feel good,
I would wish you well,
And beautiful, Cepcarol.
DTQT.
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Thank you Quedrian. 🌻
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Reblogged this on TYT.
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Thank you for the reblog.🌻
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I’ve been off WordPress for four months so need to catch up. How is your mother? Is she still coping with dementia? How are you coping? Wonderful poem, we can all lose our sense of identity when we are constantly caring for a loved one. It seems we only exist for their pleasure.
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Thank you for your concern. Dementia takes from us our loved ones, their memory. She is coping as best as she can, I think. 🌻
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