Philip Carter

(London)

Forgotten Memories


He sits alone in the old armchair
In his own private room
His eyes looking straight ahead
Into the semi gloom
He's surrounded by photographs
Of people from his past
But any flash of recognition
Doesn't seem to last
His family used to visit
And chat about days gone by
But he never knew who they were
So now they don't even try
They pay the bills to keep him here
And maybe send a card of greeting
With happy birthday granddad
But no face to face meeting
The care staff try their very best
To keep his mind alive
Even though there is no hope
They continue to strive
Where is he now behind those eyes
That stare off into space
Looking at his photographs
But not seeing a single face.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 11, 2012

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Woke up with this poem in my head.

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