Dementia

Walking down the memory lane,
Trying to peer into dingy cottages,
Through the foggy glass panes,
Looking for the long lost pages,
Hiding the happy moments of the old times,
Before smiles had turned into dollars and dimes.

I keep walking, fabricating joyous moments,
An excellent facade, to hide my gray shades.
Moving on, constantly enduring torment,
Though the mask, the lies do start to fade.
My walls crumbling away, bringing down my guard.
This is so hard, oh so damn hard!

I try to recall happiness, abandoned somewhere,
Maybe hidden in a deep cellar, broken and bare.