I don’t call it Alzheimer’s
I call it Old-timer’s Disease
When all of your memories start to fade away
‘Til there’s nothing left
But the loneliness
You’re left to wonder what on earth is going on
Depend on others to get you
Through the day
You stumble
Unable for it
For anything
Not able to hold your focus
To carry on like you used to
Distant memories
More distant than they should be
Reflexes become abnormal
Muscles grow rigid
Fade away
What is going on
You sway
Swallowing impaired
Your grandchild tries to shave your misbehaving beard
While you sit in the old rocking chair
Your daughter’s your daughter no more
Not in your eyes
A stranger
More than a stranger
Feelings for you are empty, in your mind anyway
You cry through the pain
A wayward mind
That swims in utter disdain
You’re seventy
But you feel a hundred
Frustration took over a long time ago
Now it’s just you and these constant lows
A futile attempt to alleviate the pain
People try to get in
In vain
This is your body now
You take a look out of the window
To where your wife used to stand in the garden
When suddenly the priest enters through the door
“Ahem… pardon?”