Forget-Me-Not

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Renew my strength, face another day,

But I'm afraid

I wait and I wait for strength

From heaven sent

But nothing changes, nothing at all.

I thought that I might fly on mounted wings

But the Psychiatrist said that was a dangerous illusion

She gave me sedatives, instead.

I want to run and run and run and never get tired

Like I did when I was a boy and my family were  all alive

But I couldn't even walk to the nurses' station.

The ward is locked now.

I want to walk through the windows

Out into the mild spring air and look and look

Everywhere.

The snowdrops, the crocuses, the hyacinths

 Forget-Me-Nots, see the buds on the trees;

This all didn't happen

A very long time ago. I am weary now.

Weary. 

 

◄ Blues

Wolf children ►

Comments

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Vautaw

Wed 13th Mar 2019 15:17

But you are flying my friend, right now, you are half-way around the world with your raw and real words that remind us of our mortality and legacy. Thanks for sharing John. 💗

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John Marks

Wed 13th Mar 2019 14:24

Thank you Dorothy and Keith. Like most poems there is an element of autobiography here but there is also an element of observation. The condescending (even cruel) way that elderly, infirm and disabled people are treated in our society makes me really angry. Like you, Keith, my life is circumscribed by arthriris (in my case rheumatoid); some days I can hardly walk. I would be able to accept this a lot easier if I did not see so many people like me treated so carelessly. I am educated and confident, so I can speak for myself. Many others I come across lack those advantages and are treated dismissively. John

<Deleted User> (21487)

Wed 13th Mar 2019 10:21

John.
Your poem says so much about the way I feel

I agree with Kieth about smashing windows.

I so long to get my dogs together and take them accross the fields and through the woods that I loved.
I feel as though I can still do it, that is untill I look for my dogs and realize that they are long gone.
I can see the woods in the distance and realize that the distance is to great.

Dorothy

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keith jeffries

Wed 13th Mar 2019 10:11

John,

Your words sum up how I so frequently feel. A sesne of frustration. The clock cannot be turned back. I often feel that I am under house arrest due to either lack of funds or arthritis. I want to walk through windows......I could smash them.

Thank you for this

Keith

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