ALONE IN THE DARK

I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I feel something smooth.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells tickle my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer,
I’ve never been able to answer.
For I’ve been blind,
Living in the dark for years.

The nursing home is now my prison.
I sit alone, 
Ignored by the staff,
Poked by the nurses.

This is not the ending
I would have envisioned for myself. 
A darkness too encompassing.
A sadness too overwhelming. 

 

 

A DARK COCOON

The moon passes the sun.

Morning bows out, all done.

Darkness unveils its grim poker hand

to the drum beat of the marching band.

A moment of blackness

brings fears of more darkness.

What if your life was all dark?

The sun never lefts its mark.

The mornings and nights the same,

bringing you mountains of pain.

No relief from the bleak cocoon

like digging your grave with a spoon.

Years fade and turn to dust,

your memory goes bust.

Trapped in walls of despair,

without holes for the air.

Is this living or not?

She is stuck in one spot.

Too afraid to venture outside,

a further blow to her lost pride.

She hides in the nursing home,

where she reaches for the phone.

“Help me,”​ she cries out.

No one can help out.

Lost in her dark cocoon,

where she fits like a spoon.

Waiting for death to take its flight

to a better place in the light.

SIT ALONE IN THE DARK

 

SIT ALONE IN THE DARK

“I sit alone in the dark.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”

The anguish my mother faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.

Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

 

IN THE DARK

ALONE IN THE DARK

“I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of  pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”

The anguish my mother had faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.

The last part of her life

was spent in a nursing home,

suffering from dementia.

Life can be cruel.

Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

 

ALONE IN THE DARK

ALONE IN THE DARK

“I sit alone by the table.
I hear voices around me.
Sounds of movement.
Sounds of life.

I reach out.
I can feel the smoothness.
A plate.
A meal.

Smells waft by my nose.
Aromas of chicken.
Sweet smells of  pudding.
Smells of life.

What color is the food?
Is the sun shining in?
Are the faces around me young or old?
So many questions.

Questions I can’t answer.
I can never answer.
For I am blind,
Have been blind for years.”

The anguish my mother had faced
For most of her life.
Her sight stolen from her
At a young age.
Loss of sight.
Loss of colors.
Loss of faces.
Loss of memories.

DARKNESS IS YOUR ONLY FRIEND

DARKNESS IS YOUR ONLY FRIEND

A room full of books.
You can feel them with your fingertips.
But you can’t see a single word.
Your senses are sensitized.
Every single noise is amplified.
But you can’t see light.
Or colors.
You are blind.
In a world full of color.
Your fingertips lead you.
Your senses guide you.
Darkness is your only friend.

WHAT DO WE SEE?

We see the world through our own eyes.
But what are we seeing?
Do we see reality or our own perception of reality?
Is our brain filtering out what we don’t care to see?
Am I seeing the same thing as you?
I believe we all look at the world in different ways.
We could be looking at the same thing,
but seeing something entirely different.
I’d be curious to see the world through
a set of different eyes.
Who knows what these eyes might show me.