louis rams (09/13/1943 / new york city)
The Little Box
It is a small little box and you have the key
Open it up so that I can see
My mind is playing tricks on me
I feel as if I’m losing my memory.
No matter how much I fought
I can’t hold a single thought
My mind travels from place to place
It’s a dilemma that I must face.
It is not just for the elderly you see
It can happen to you as well as me.
The young call it daydreaming
And the elderly call it dementia
No matter what you may call it, it is
Havoc on the brain and your life will never be the same.
It gets to a point that not much in life matters
All your dreams have become shattered.
Such a little box that can hold so much
And all is lost at the slightest touch.
You want to know how bad your memory becomes
- - - - - - (what was I talking about?) Oh yes memories
It becomes like waves against the beach
No matter how fast you run, you cannot reach.
Ha-ha welcome to my world!
Comments about this poem (The Little Box by louis rams )
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