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hands and feet

Contributed by lanabear on Saturday, 15th October 2005 @ 01:08:59 AM in AEST
Topic: FamilyPoems

The place where your hands are your feet

You wish you didn’t have to open the door
You do, but you don’t
Entering here depresses your soul
You open it anyway
You love her, you would never just run away
Walk down the hallway
Another old woman comes up to you
Hi carol, are you taking me to dinner?
Your name isn’t carol and this isn’t your grandmother
You smile with the sadness of dementia lingering unwanted on your lips
You walk on
You see her room, and you enter
She looks puzzled and tells you that her hands are in fact her feet
But no, socks don’t go there….you hand over the mittens
She informs you then, that people in here are talking of war
People are dying, and everyone has guns
The people who work here have guns
It was a dream you say
She sighs, no one believes her
You know she is trapped
Horribly caught within herself
Dreams are reality and reality is nothing but forgetting
She looks at you then and says
By the way, have we met?

Copyright Â© lanabear ... [ 2005-10-15 01:08:59]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: hands and feet (User Rating: 1 )
by paul_x_walker on Saturday, 15th October 2005 @ 01:30:15 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

good job

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