“Are you worried?” you say, “I’m all right” I smile
But before my eyes you are dwindling juvenile
And ready to sleep always in the most peaceful place
In your mother’s warm arms, under her loving face
“It’s not very serious; you don’t have to worry about me”
I gaze at you in clarity as I cup my hands around my tea
Then someone unseen is standing in front of you
You grasp at nothing and I watch you chew
I fear that one day soon you’ll lose your mind
And to the light in your eyes I will be blind
Your memories will be thrown into disarray
As who you are is stolen by your disease’s decay
I look at you fondly wave and say “Bye”
“Bye” you happily smile in reply
You don’t just worry me; you scare
Because I see you but you’re not really there
A Dream of Writing 