A Losing Battle

Before I started writing full time, I worked for fifteen years as an activities assistant in a nursing home. Most of the time, I worked with residents suffering from Alzheimer’s’ disease. The following poem reflects on how frustrating this disorder can be. It can also be read on my Web site at http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com/alosing-09.html.

A LOSING BATTLE

My get up and go
just got up and went.
I’m feeling so down.
My whole life’s been spent.

I sit in my chair
day in and day out.
Sometimes I cry.
Sometimes I shout.

I don’t know one soul
from the next, don’t you see?
I can only smile
when they talk to me.

I need help each day,
unsure what to do.
Everything’s jumbled.
Everything’s new.

Although I can walk,
I don’t know where to go.
Nothing’s familiar.
There’s nothing I know.

Sometimes it’s hopeless.
I see no light
at the end of the tunnel,
no daybreak in sight.

But it’s just as well
that there’s no forthcoming dawn—
for my get up and go’s
gotten up and gone.

Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author of We Shall Overcome
http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com
abbie@samobile.net