If someday oblivion, my human past, does bury,
I'm sure for some, but not for me, it will be scary.
I'll be the lucky one; no longer will I have worries,
as, around me, one or more of my caretakers scurries.
Well, I HOPE I'll have no worries IF it does happen,
and I'd hope that your willpower, it doesn't sappen.
And when my mind is fuzzy and doesn't remember,
I hope I'll die quickly, like some worn out, dying ember.
(October 2,2014)
A horrible horrible disease gets the Bri treatment and for sure its a subject that requires a humourous way of dealing with it. Good on ya Bri. Im very impressed by this poem.
There is dementia of death every where. But well I hope I will have no worries. Well feelings with perfect perception. Beautiful poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dementia used to scare you before! By constant encounter with that word, you seem to have got over your initial fright! Please know, being surrounded by caretakers is no fun! Though dementia is not as pleasant as you describe, be assured, it is not going to attack a (crazy/ humorous?) guy like Bri! Enjoyed!