I see bits of me in other people although I do not understand how it is said we are all the same
I feel quite unique and it does not seem to change
As I am getting older and more mature
The world is progressing so grand
The logic seems quite tragic
Or perhaps I cannot understand
Others seem to roll with the flow of Change so well, I feel like I have been thrown in the *** that is boiling me up Getting me tender for hell
I pray each day that God will open
my eyes to The brightest way
He brings happiness in my heart
That will forever stay
Even when the world is basking in evil in revolutionary ways
Assured I am The Holy Spirit is with me
For protection through these days

I have a disability
Because it is lack of memory
Others refuse to accept it is
The way my mind shall be
After testing my memory
The PhD of Neuropsychology
Agreed that I suffer with
Cognitive impairment, MCI
My forgetfulness is here to stay
With me until I die
Yes, I can exercise my brain
It may help a bit, still I will forget
So just accept it!! PLEASE QUIT
Telling me to exercise my brain
I know my limitations best, oh Yes!
Everyone telling me to try to remember is really what
Drives me insane!!!
I have tried my hardest everyday
For years I have been fooling You
All in so many ways!
Now the truth has escaped
It is a relief, I must say
I am so tired of  playing
The main role on the stage
Every single day!!
Please, all of you quit telling me
To exercise my memory
If this was happening to you,
God forbid, then perhaps you
Would understand me when I say
I am tired, oh so tired, of striving
for just an ounce of memory
Day after day!!!!
So again I say
Please, just let me be Me!
The Ole' lady with memory disability
THIS IS ME, ₩€ND¥°•°°•°•°°•°•°°•°•°°•°•°

His head kept bumping on my shoulder
and he was not my father
or anyone I knew

he smelled as if a bath was overdue
and slept like wasn't a place better
than the ***** briefness of my shoulder.

Breaking down was my brittle patience
needled by his bristled cheek
brushed by his shabby dress,

was for rest the man hard pressed?

Wouldn't I have been nudged by pride
if the head on my shoulder was my father
happy to have him by my side?

as he gets older
does his blurry mind miss
a place where he is not alone

one or any shoulder
for an untimely nap in peace
a quiet stranger to rest upon?

I am what I am
a man with no plan

but I don't understand?
  you don't have a plan

I don't have a plan
what's to understand?

What about your hopes and dreams?

I just dont know I screamed!
Why do I need dreams to succeed
and what is success anyway?
Why can't I just live my life at play

because you have to take things seriously

seriously, but why?

Imagine all the regrets you will have when you die

regrets about not having a plan?
but what if I die before I can fulfil my plan
now its me that doesn't understand
how can I write a story
if its constantly unfolding
it sounds kinda boring
to already know the ending
I would much rather sing
and why do I need a career path
when I would much rather laugh
all this planning seems so daft!

But you have to be a responsible adult

you mean like a banker that steals?
or a soldier that kills?
or a politician that lies?
or a butcher that cuts up animals with knives?

no! no! those are just the extremes!
you got to have dreams!

I do dream
of being free
of being me
no judgements
no labels
just what you see

But what about a vocation?
a location?
somewhere to hang your hat!

life is a vacation
I don't need none of that!

look I am what I am
a man with no plan
you don't have to understand
as long as you can
can what?
just can.

Poetry is stuck to me
Like barnacles stick
To a ship permanently
Barnacally feeding by
Filtering the particles within
My brain from the oceanic
Water they are
Modified  to sustain
Numerous crustaceans
Stuck inside my mind,
Rhyming words floating
With feathery appendages
Some sticking permanetely
From time to time
Yes, poetry  a sea creature
With a shell that has fastened
Itself tightly to my brain
On a never ending poetic
voyage I will joyously sustain