Poem: Dementia


Brian D. King
There was a young man who had a collection
Books of all kinds cataloged by each section
His library started with shelves in his room
It grew ever faster like weeds in full bloom
His mother was tender, supporting her son
“I’ll give you a home for your books, every one”
His treasure of books had filled up to the door
He finished his school and was ready to soar
He left on a mission to travel the sea
To work far abroad, alone would he be
The quest of a lifetime, the perilous kind
He left all his books and his things back behind
“You’ll live in small quarters,” explained his new boss
“You’ll take just one baggage, the rest you can toss”
“But how can I part from my books?” Cried the boy
“The ultimate love of my life and my joy!”
The boy asked his mother, “Oh what should I do?”
“Just leave them with me, and I’ll keep the brand new”
“I’ll place them in storage deep under the ground”
“I’ll keep them with me ‘till you come back around”
He left and he lived in the moment each day
He finished his work and came home right away
He ran to the basement to number his hoard
“Look! Ten times the books that I left in that ward”
He counted each book and remembered them all
“I thought I misplaced you, but you’re here on the wall!”
The mom laid aside all he thought had been tossed
“I gathered them here so they’d never be lost”
Each book contains memories divided by chapter
Stored in a vault that we’ll open hereafter
Fear not for your memories that wandered astray
For God will restore them, they’re all laid away
This poem’s for Dad, tho bliss’fly he warbles
In case he grows old, and loses his marbles
©2016 Brian D. King

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