Dementia

In my past life, I worked with people that have dementia. It is a sad mind robbing disease. One gentleman I took care of sat in his wheelchair all day long yelling "Help me please". As I watched him one day, I penned this poem. This is for you Harry: Help me Please

"Help me please" was his cry
you ask his need
confusion was his reply
The nurse gives him a pill
for his mind and soul
to be still
In quite slumber he just sits there
his face with a sad blank stare
What is the need
behind his plea?
A gentle touch or soft word
word from me?
Once a man of such might and
power
now looks to me for his daily
shower.
Years ago was his life-
A home,two children and a
beautiful wife
Now his dear wife of many years
is gone.
His children all grown and lives of
their own.
So, time has brought him to this
place-
loss of memory and confusion on his
face.
What is the need behind his plea?
A gentle touch or soft word from
me.