If I could name Alzheimer's,
Give him a face,
I think I would call him the Thief.
But the Thief does not come in the night;
He is not afraid of the day.
He will ruin your cherished traditions,
Your favorite pastimes.
He will spit on the spirit of your memories,
Then take them, too.
The Thief will take everything
But love and faith
The Thief cannot touch those;
They burn and overwhelm him.
The Thief will attack,
Vicious and biting.
He will lure his victim into a steady routine,
And strike if his victim strays from it.
And in the lulls, he will sap a little more
A little more
A little more
But still, love and faith remain.
They are humanity's last defense,
Her greatest triumph.
When these are all that is left,
The Thief will depart.
He is a parasite,
But the host will be of no further use to him.
He will return the shell,
The empty house,
And he will move on.
And love and faith will remain.
Love and faith will fill the rooms.
They will bring light where there was none.
Friends and family will remember all they had before the Thief,
Lament their losses, of course, but comfort in all they shared.
The Thief wins more than he deserves,
But he does not win total victories;
Small triumphs remain--
The occasional yes or no.
The flicker of light that says 'I still remember. I'm still here.'
The Thief cannot take these things.
They are provided with love,
For the beloved.
I would not wish the Thief on my own worst enemy.
I would not want to see him so wracked,
His family so torn.
Even though love wins,
The Thief takes entirely too much.
His victims forget,
And we are left to forge..