as i slowly begin to forget the names of people
and places, and the titles of once-favourite songs
say less and less, the evening nap suddenly becomes
the highlight of the day, just after i look at a picture
of little me with my favourite chequered blanket,
where i gaze at a teddy bear with great concern.
i doubt i knew then, nor do i know now, why.
perhaps we are simply born to live a life
marked by fear.
hidden pilcrow 