May I avoid the seventh floor,
With plastic flowers and plants galore.
Triple glazed, no chance of sound,
The air is canned and pushed around.
To never hear the sound of birds.
The noise from streets, the shouted word.
To wait each day for every meal,
The hours between, too numb to feel.
To hear the others talk aloud,
Once so happy, once so proud.
To think each day is Christmas time.
Where is that card with pretty rhyme?
To see those nurses all in white,
Who move so silent, what a fright.
To wait for visits all day long,
And then remember they’ve all gone.
To feel your sight too weak to see,
What will you do without TV?
To never know the year or date,
Just to sit and wait, wait, wait.
I hope that floor is not my fate.
That when I’m old, it’s not too late.
To make a choice, however small,
Convince them I’m not ill at all.
-
Author:
PETERHARRISON (
Offline) - Published: September 6th, 2021 08:32
- Comment from author about the poem: I dedicate this poem to all of those people who begin to lose their loved ones long before their end. Alzheimer’s is a devastating illness, not only for those that suffer from it but also for all those that love them. I wrote this after my mother passed away and I will always treasure those few precious moments each day when she recognised me.
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Comments5
We all dread getting older and all it entails. 💗
Thank you so much for your very touching comments. It truly is a devastating illness.
A sensitive write Peter.
Thank you so much for your very touching comments. It truly is a devastating illness.
Thanks for that, Peter – it’s the kind of poetry I can relate to with ease.
Difficult to know exactly how end stage dementia is experienced by the subject. On the way there, obviously there is awareness of their condition as slow decline occurs and should I find myself in that situation I feel from here I’d like to check out before the final.
However, an uncertain speculation.
What is certain is that there is much suffering on the part of loved ones and close associates, witnessed here for example, by Andy/Goldfinch. My heart goes out to him and others I came in contact with during my life and fifteen years in mental health.
I didn't know you worked in mental health. A big thank you from me, we do so need dedicated people like you. A good friend of mine in London was in the same profession, after being a Rodie for Marc Bolan!
All the best
Peter
Good way to go - your friend: experience of life and then mental health.
Thanks for your response.
How tragic to lose any loved one to such an empty existence and you describe so well the horror of knowing a dear Mother can remember her precious son for but a few moments - - heartfelt thanks Peter for sharing your own sad experience of this feared condition as increasing families have to cope with a poor victim of Alzheimer's disease.
Thank you so much for your very touching comments. It truly is a devastating illness.
its a devastating condition,
to have someone look, act, speak
the same, but yet
have them see you as a complete stranger every time, must be so draining
but I think, the more that eloquent writers like you, can share their experience, in a not so dramatic tone, the more we'll all be better prepared if we ever encounter it, in our lives
since I'm sure the shock factor plays a major role..
a sobering read, with immense importance,
thank you, for choosing to share
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