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Living in a land called 'Dementia'

Living in a Land called DEMENTIA

Waking each day, not sure where I am, Trusting my eyes whenever I can, Looking around for a familiar face, Taking my life at dementia`s own pace,

Now in the kitchen, with spoon in hand, Looking down at my breakfast, it all turns to sand What is this? What do I do? Feeling so thirsty for a really good brew,

One shirt or two shirts, jumper or tie Can’t understand, why I want to cry, Feeling frustrated, it can’t be that hard, To simply get dressed, feeling so scarred

When darkness fall my demons arrive, Sundowning abounds, for sanity I strive, This is now my life; it’s not an adventure, In now what I call “The Land of Dementia”

Norrms Mc Namara Diagnosed with dementia aged 50 just seven years ago and STILL FIGHTING IT

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