Do You Recognize Yourself?
Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a field of wheat stalks waiting to be cut down
Bending with the wind and slowly drying all that remains is the end
I used to be angry all the time but now I’m just sad when I see your faces
I know somebody must be fulfilled but I know most of us just need a friend
The emotions of men as they age remove the walls they once erected
They finally realize how they kept true love at arms-length in the name of pride
Acting like a man is too much work for a soul who understands precious time
Maybe it’s better to just admit you’re wrong then you’ll know why she cried
The fear of change is the enemy of your evolving spirit as you cling to irrelevance
There is nothing that is not effected by the desire to become the next big thing
History is the story of so many wrongs in the name of tradition and convenience
Whether slavery, revolutions around celestial bodies or the need for a King
Progress is measured not just by comfort but also by how we take care of the poor
Sometimes I can’t understand any man who wouldn’t improve himself for his children
Is it so hard to work and think about their future instead of your own?
But then I see how I am unable to rise above my own limitations because of emotion
I can’t judge anyone and wonder why others seem to make a life of hatred
We assume the worst in others even if we know of the troubles which always remain
What life is it to resist the bridge to a better world than the one you inherited?
You must overcome your own mind and pretend you are a child once again
I wonder if for once a person could actually suffer for what they never felt
Could you look at a man and think of the pride when he was cut from the chord
He cried while his mother reached for him with every hope a moment could bring
And now along with his failures he knows his family name is just another word
There is no burden that you must bear to solve the world’s problems because you can’t
But when you touch a stranger with hate or with love one day you will see
Who you touch will touch another and another until it returns as a stranger or a friend
Will you recognize yourself or will you recoil in horror at what you used to be?
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Alzheimer's - Poetry