God, I Miss my Mind
Just a line to say I'm living,
That I'm not amongst the dead,
Though I'm getting more forgetful,
And mixed up in the head.
I've got used to my arthritis,
To my dentures I'm resigned,
I can cope with my bifocals,
But - oh God - I miss my mind.
Sometimes I can't remember,
When I'm standing by the stairs,
If I should be going up for something,
Or have I just come down from there?
And before the fridge so often,
My mind is full of doubt,
Now did I just put some food away,
Or come to take some out?
If it's not my turn to write dear,
I hope you won't get sore,
I may think I have written,
And don't want to be a bore.
So remember I do love you,
And wish that you lived near,
And now it's time to mail this,
And to say goodbye my dear.
At last I stand beside the mailbox,
And my face - it sure is red,
Instead of posting this to you -
I've opened it instead!