By: Fred A. Das
The song of the birds, I cannot hear, The flowers, I cannot smell.
I cannot remember, the ones I loved, And things I knew so well.
I cannot see the wondrous sights, My eyes no longer can see,
The setting sun, the stars at night, The beauty of a Tree,
I cannot cry, I have no tears, And yet my heart is filled with fears.
I cannot speak as I did before, My voice has faded away.
I'm in a world all of my own, I cannot even pray.
I know no difference between day and night, Time means nothing to me.
I cannot tell the wrongs from right, Oh! God, What has happened to me,
I long to feel the tender touch, Of Someone to light the way,
Someone to lead me out of my world, And turn the night into day.
I need a strong and gentle hand, Someone who understands,
Someone who would guide me, Out of these strange and siatnce lands.
I have had this poem on our refrigerator for years to remind us all: friends, family and caregivers, what it's like for Mike and others with Alzheimer's Disease every day of their lives.
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