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DARKNESS DESCENDS UPON MY MIND

I don't wish to be unkind,
Damn this miserable mind of mine.
Not only do I have, (as time did tell),
Mixed dementia but dyslexic dementia
as well.

With words mixed up in my universe,
It really does feel as though I'm cursed.
Yet it has a curious quality of it self,
Like a rotting apple upon a shelf.

My mind has passed its sell by date,
Unwrapped to early used to late.
This dyslexic dementia is very mean,
I'm not the scholar I could have been.

I feel like a vampire that got it in the neck,
My mind itself is such a wreck.
It's unfeasible that it could see,
The jumbled word's that come out of me.

I'm not the wordsmith that I could have been,
Writing down words I haven't seen.
Just an inanimate articulated artist,
Who's word's don't work as instructed.

Poetry by Alan J Ripley