They Call It _____________ Poem by Carolyn Ford Witt

THEY CALL IT


Far out into Oblivion
My mind so often goes
But, just where, Oblivion is
No one really knows.

It wanders into quiet spheres
So empty out in space
And where that trail has led too
No one..... has any trace.

It's emptiness and clutter
All rolled into one
Fear and loneliness
An existance that's not fun.

A blankness that will not release,
A void.....beyond belief
Sucking away at conciousness,
For there is no relief.

Muffled sounds around me
But nothing really clear
Inside this void of emptiness
No feelings...not a tear.....

What name that they have given
As this disease we clearly see?
They call it now...Altzheimers
And it will never let us be.


Author: Carolyn Ford Witt

By Ms. Caroline


© 2006 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)