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Amnesia
September 1, 2014
I'm a prisoner,
A prisoner of my own house
Trapped inside a memoria
Of
Who
I
Once was
And
Who I once loved.
I think I was a boy
Once
With short curly red hairt
And
A smooth round face
But
How
Am
I to really know?
I recall a girl with
Gold hair'
And
Lightning eyes......
I think I loved her
but
how
am
I to really know?
I'm a prisoner,
A prisoner of my own house
Struggling against the monster
That tries to make me forget about
You.
© Nicole B., Newcastle, WA
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This is a poem I wrote about an old man who has amnesia. He is strugglling to remember his love while he is trying to also find himself.