I went to an art gallery with my grandmother the other day
Kept circling the same room for hours
She had a different opinion every time
about those 12 paintings we kept looking at
Afterwards we went back home
I made some coffee
And introduced myself to her for the very last time
That last line packed quite the punch (line). Excellent but very sad poem. Thanks for sharing.
a poem to ponder on as we occasionally see this in others and quietly dread that it should happen to us as we fear the loss of our identity and sink into an incomprehensible haze.
Very well put together and written with love.
Thank you for this
Keith
Short and not so sweet but - a grim sadness still shines in the gloom of the text. Cleverly constructed Sognare. Tommy
It is a sad fact of life for a number of people. I fully understand having had a father who had suffered with a similar affliction.
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Philip Stevens
Sat 13th Jul 2019 00:31
I supported mum with personal care for the last six month's she would always say I was very nice man without recognising me as her son.... so yeah I know what you mean