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Wayne H Colegate Jan 2014
We all have this fear, when today is not remembered tomorrow
We worry that we miss happiness or sometimes bitter sorrow.
They put names on things like this but none will ever fit.
So here I am forgetting , not remembering where I sit.
I can't see my children's faces the way I used to do
it is not like there are many, there is only just a few.
Their names are now escaping me on every other day
and when I can't remember I don't know what to say.
My brain has suddenly collapsed on me and so I gently cry
perhaps tomorrow when I see the world I promise I will try.
Losing all your yesterdays is such a horrible  lonely thing,
for all their loving memories were always there to sing.
Now they have drifted far away and I am so alone
I wonder if there is things I've done for which I must atone.
The good is presently  gone as is all the bitterly bad,
that is why this monster has made me so terribly sad.
Please try and recall my face and please say my name out loud
so I will know who I am and feel just a little bit proud.

WHC....copyright/2014
wordvango Apr 2017
Old age has its  advantages
because
I find it harder
to remember what it
was
I was trying  to forget
Erica Tang May 2017
I forgot the name
of my old town
and the familiar
dialogues
spoken by the
tooth-missing
oldtimers,
whose skin
was leathered
by the Sun.
Stories written
on their faces
got lost somewhere
on the alleys,
where peddlers
used to
trick kids
into buying
colorful cotton candy.
Grandma’s cat
had gobbled its
last can of sardine
long ago, yet
its languid yarn
still faintly lingers
in my memory.
I see old phantoms
wander between
gleaming skyscrapers
and highways,
where their
homes were
buried
underneath.
Hey readers,
This poem is inspired by urbanization and the gradual loss of indigenous culture.
wordvango Jan 2017
i realize i am in the beginning stages
of oldtimers' disease
when I have to **** every half hour
and the toilet bowl is mysteriously empty,
every time?
I have checked out the flush valve-check;
the fill valve, too-check;
the handle
the seat,
the bolts on the floor-no problem;
when in a burst of enlightenment
I remembered....
I have not filled Missy's ( my gorgeous well balanced love of my life Labrador)'s
water bowl in two days.

— The End —