Slipping through my hands
The old man's hourglass
Barely able to hold on
Shaking
Unable to grasp anything
Not even the memories
Hands
Muscular & buffed
Yet they still
Shake
Lost
Dementia is a forest
One which my mind is hidden in
I don't remember
Where I am
Where my family is...
Trembling like an earthquake
My awareness of everything around me
Dissipates into the aftermath of the tremor.
And just like that
It's gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem