my name is Max.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A first person poem of a man with Alzheimer's in a nursing home.

Submitted: August 27, 2012

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Submitted: August 27, 2012



I wake up here - This unknown place - a girl walks in - I know her face.

She yanks the blankets back from me and tells me that it's time to eat.


I'm so confused - I shake my head - Are these my clothes? Is this my bed?

I'm pushed into a cold hallway - I'm given pills and turned away.


My stomach hurts. I know this pain. I called for help. And Noone came.

She yells at me. Am I to blame? An accident. I feel ashamed.


A woman comes and hugs me tight. She calls me dad. Is this my wife?

No. No. That can't be right. She passed away one August night.


I found her lying on the floor. Called 911, of that I'm sure.

It feels like it was yesterday that I was kneeling at her grave.


Familiar strangers stop and say that I am wrong, but who are they?

Doctors? Nurses? hard to tell. This place I'm in - it must be hell.


I see no smiles. No signs of care. I feel so lost. Alone and scared.

Where are my kids? I miss my life. I miss my home. I miss my wife.


They tell me that it's time for bed. The sun's still out.. I nod my head.

I hope and pray this is a dream. A nightmare world. I want to scream.



© Copyright 2018 J Christopher Bartley. All rights reserved.

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