“Who are you, who shares the same name as me?”
A pale figure says, surrounded by his family,
the room is filled with tears, and with anger,
as what was so well known, becomes ever stranger.
I ask the wannabe corpse, “do you still love me?”
Though, with a vacant look, he shrugs nonchalantly,
making in me, a reason, to become the perfect killer,
as with his death, a mutual break; will be delivered.
For he refuses to attend, he just enjoys the fog,
remaining the living ghost, writing his early epilogue,
where the ink comes from distilleries, that he has drank,
but in us, his kin, we try to think, of what we can thank.
However, the good we hold on to, the despair is too much,
so, gratitude’s replaced with disdain; as we lose touch,
“is it too late for him to change?” I sobbingly ask,
as it may take his life; thus, it may be his final task.
Dear Mother and Sister, I need you, so I can confide,
if not, I will take the slab in his place, let me die,
for twelve years of hurt, that’s been co-authored by him,
has made my thoughts rotten, and my outlook, so very grim.
Their response is kind, for they remind me to be cool,
as, I, and we, are him, thus, I should not be so cruel,
our relationship now, is like tying the Gordian knot,
hence like Alexander, we will try to slice through the lot.
We shall wade through this swamp of sadness, to reclaim,
the one who is lost, a source of our prolonged pain,
in all our senses, we can feel his earthly presence,
though we do concentrate, for the dissonance in his essence.
Half of his groans and moans, are not in his control,
by way of ward holidays, where whitecoats were on patrol,
but, time and time again, his nature intervenes,
not heeding the advice, that will keep his health so clean.
Wishing that his slurring, can be replaced with clarity,
our bones creak, and our energy burns, in natural charity,
we extend our hands to a phantom, that we still recognise,
he has still got a lot to live for, before his demise.
So, we clamber up our mountains, that have been made,
in harmonious tones of light, to rid away the shade,
in time, we all hope, to write a most happy diary log,
but for the moment, we are staring, at his ghost in the fog.
-
Author:
AuburnScribbler (
Offline) - Published: March 17th, 2022 08:33
- Comment from author about the poem: Quite a sad one, this one, but I felt compelled to write it. There may come a time, where families all over the world; reach a stage of disconnection, most likely brought on by a frustratingly agonising mental disease, that could have been caused by substance abuse/alcoholism, or by bio-medical problems, beyond their control. Thus, out of ardent love, and with heart-breaking zeal, the “healthier” members of the family, have to keep the light on; for the one who refuses to, or cannot. I hope that you enjoy the poem, if you relate to this, my thoughts are with you, and as always, please do stay safe everyone.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 38
- Users favorite of this poem: Rocky Lagou, Christina8.
Offline)
Comments3
This was crafted and shaped to perfection. I mean really this was so good. I can relate as well as I think most families could, there's no such thing as a "normal family" so this will really reach a lot of people. I love the line "as, I, and we, are him." It's so true, we're all, despite the chaos, still connected by a bond that just can't be broken so easily: it's family. Very well done!
Thanks for the read, for favouriting this poem, and for your very kinds words of praise Rocky, it's very much appreciated.
I'm glad that you related to this poem so closely, and I totally agree with the things you've raised in your comment.
Thanks again, and I hope that all is well!
I can relate on so many levels. I live with a family member with dementia. It's very difficult. I favorited your poem not just on subject but I loved the cadence and the rhyme. Awesome job!
Thanks for the read, for favouriting this poem, and for you very kind words Christina8, it's very much appreciated.
My thoughts are with you during such a difficult situation, I just hope things can get a bit better.
Thanks again, and I hope that all is well!
Powerful, difficult to read as we realize the reality of today's world. People we love become strangers to us and to themselves, and the struggle to regain a life affects all who touch it
Thanks for the read Bella, and I'm glad that you have related to this poem, in order to give such a succinct summary in your comment.
Thanks again, and I hope that all is well!
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