Sunday, 29 July 2018

Die, Die Dementia, a poem by Joanne Oliver




Die, Die Dementia

There’s one true path they say
No: a maze of paths with no clear way
I like the grass, the sand and mud
The random walking does me good

Hard pavements hurts my feet and soul
I get no closer to my goal
By staying on the well worn street
There'd be fixed challenges I'd meet

Neurones lose their links and wither
If I don’t digress and dither
Embrace the new, and drop the old
Watch as stories new unfold

My brain’s in danger this I know
If I don’t force it to grow
New links and circuits every day
To keep the ATD at bay

It may be futile what I’m trying
But it’s better than sitting crying
Thinking I’m going like she did
While from the truth my family hid.

Heard the words from her “who’s that”
As she spied me in my wedding hat.
I  hope my son never hears that from me.
I know I’ll write some poetry!