if i lost my mind
-i mean, having an alzheimer's disease-
what words, thoughts and feelings i would have;
for myself and
for others?
what form of life I will be?
if i have
everything,
like being alone on the moon.
how i would feel and think
about
Eileen?
if i am dead;
what is the last thread that has my name or
the sound of my actions?
what part of me will survive
all ironies?
if i have
a beautiful idea,
and there are no one left
to share it with or to use it for his, her, and their welfare;
how i will deal with the loss?
i feel
everyone
in details
-i means in details-
but no one feels me back the way I feel them;
how a crowed street
will look like?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem