This Poem was Submitted By: Renee' M Locke On Date: 2000-08-07 13:03:14 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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OLD TIMER'S DISEASE

It is the present day only. There is no yesterday for me, my lost self. All past days,   hour by hour   are endless...lost. Though there is a distant past   for me, they are only flashes. Some are clear for me. Those incidents that shine stronger,   are stronger, because they were stronger then.      In time, my short memory will become   shorter and shorter until all will vanish completely;   not as forgotten memories but as non-existent memories. And the present will narrow   and incomplete sentences   will dwindle further when only a sound will be uttered;   a sound frozen in time   with no possibility of it being freed to continue.

Copyright © August 2000 Renee' M Locke


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