My Big Fight with Dementia- Fisherman's last stand

by Maple Tree   Dec 28, 2020

On the bottom, was I- natures earth girl
spinning, dancing, loving the breeze twirl
cotton gown, teasing my legs
softly I giggle, gathering Easter eggs.

I'd look to my Father, tall and so strong
this I knew, is where I belong
I was his daughter and he was my Dad
now he sits in silence, making me sad.

Forgetting my name, but knowing my face
falling to the floor at such a fast pace,
breaking bones and losing weight
his birthday approaching, but he forgets the date.

My Fathers a rhymer, a writer, and a pro
his pen has lost its ink, and he doesn't even know.
I write for him daily in free verse and form
but I try to rhyme, to weather the storm.

I'll read this to him, dedicate to his soul
uplifting his spirits is my only goal,
he'll smile and say that's nice - who wrote it?
remind him again, "Your Daughter"; the poet.

He wrote a poem called "My Big Fight" and others about earth
but now he forgets his true, loving worth
his grey beard is thinning as his smile fades to frown
losing his "Fight" and its taken him down.

In honor of my Father and his poem
"My Big Fight"


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Latest Comments

  • 3 months ago

    by Dark Lord

    Excellent! I know rhyme is not your main forte, but you did really good on this one. Very proud! <3

  • 3 months ago

    by Star

    Oh WOW!!!

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