SIT 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...

 

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.

 

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NO WAY OUT

 

 

Lost in a field of daisies.

Falling between the stalks.

Covered by their leaves.

Pulled down by their roots.

Darkness buries me.

Dirt envelopes me.

Illusion becomes reality.

A nightmare becomes hell.

No way out for me.

Only the faces of daisies.

 

THE DEAD love their games.

THE DEAD GAME

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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.

 

FACELESS

 

What are we without our faces?

Without our distinctive features.

No eyes to see the morning sun.

No mouth to sing a lullaby.

No nose to smell baking cookies.

We would be mere strokes of color.

A dripping rainbow of hues.