The World Is No Longer Mine
The sun is shining yet I doubt that I’ll be outside today.
Memories of the last trip to a golden beach slip into my troubled brain, but they never linger these days.
I look around and see their faces. Why can’t they see my pain, my frustration?
The mind that I once cherished is slowly failing. Like the switches on an old electrical circuit the conduits inside my head are turning off, one by one.
I scream, but no one listens.
Why can’t they understand me?
They call it ... dementia.
I call it ... a slow road to hell.