Hope
My past itself is the invader
I tell myself not to look back
It's always in front of me
The only thing is to keep busy
I tell myself not to look back
It's always in front of me
The only thing is to keep busy
For Nezka,
Your memories are black Fading faster than any of us knew Faces blending into one another My name is not my own Do you remember me at all? Your memories blacken Time spills through your fingers Life is an unorganized mess How old are you? Do you remember your husband? Can you remember your children? Is your memory of me alive or buried beneath the confusion and pain? Your memories are black As if they never were Confusing and frightening We stand behind you Which hurts more, forgetting a child or being forgotten? http://www.alzheimer.ca/english/index.php
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