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Dementia
If i should last to see the night
When all my thoughts are old -
I hope the string that holds them tight
Is safe, secure, and bold
I do not want those secret seams
To fray, to free, to breach
I do not want my dearest dreams
To lie beyond my reach
I do not want the twilight knife
To cut and blind and blur
I do not want to grasp at life
And all the things that were
For I could ride the end astride
And face the finish, free -
As long as I’m the same inside
As long as I’m still me

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