*****Dedicated to my Mother, who suffered senility*****

Every dream recorded, in my mind,
Won't even be a memory,
If I lose, what I value most,
To senility.

Fade they will,
Somewhere along the way,
Where memories are stored,
With aging times, someday.

So I thought,
Computerizing, my notions,
Before they melt, into time,
Like rain drops, in an ocean.

Forward I look not, towards
As I fight, to recognize,
My reflection in the mirror,
Nor to wonder, who is that stranger,
(My son).

To walk the streets,
Oblivious, to the world around,
Finding myself, as an unwanted guest,
In a cuckoo's nest.

I want, my kin to know,
At least I fought,
Not with the Lord, Lord no,
But with my mind,
Fighting for my control.

By:William Bonilla......10/15/02