Lost moments these gaps in time
Surrounded by such strange faces
Unable to reason can’t find a rhyme
Empty thoughts in random places
Can’t recall when the mask slipped
Sometimes minutes feel like years
Somehow the scale must of tipped
Got this constant ringing in my ears
What is this form of cruel amnesia?
That robs memories from the mind
What is this form of cruel amnesia?
An endless nightmare walking blind
Copyright @ Damian DeadLove 2025
Amnesia, would be a lonely thing for a poet of the forgotten. This was exquisite, Damian.
Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Adagio. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Hello dearest Damian great write I feel this I often wonder if forgetting is a blessing or a curse ❤️
Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Brenda. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Maybe a little of both depending on what’s forgotten. Appreciate you.
Damian
Tremendous work, my friend.
Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Thomas. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
Damian, this is strong tonic. I could feel this in my bones as I read. This i the stuff of poetry that feels like strong whiskey on the tongue. Sad but great writing.
John
Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, John. So glad you connected with the write my friend. It is sad indeed. Thank you for your continued support. Appreciate you.
Damian
It is cruel when the mind slips and cannot grasp what you have lost. Food for thought.
Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Fia. So glad you connected with the write my friend. It is food for thought, these are the little things I think about late at night. lol. Appreciate you, cuz.
Damian
Older age? I know all too well the fading of a few things within myself!
Yet you haven’t lost your literary touch! You are blessed with talent, that hasn’t ebbed. Thankfully we write down our material, no need to remember them from scratch! LOL.
You still can kick some ass with a pen, Damian. Wield it high!
Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Mark. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Getting old isn’t without the fear of losing one’s self along the way. I’m just trying to hang in there. You’re much too kind, Dear Sir. But thank you for your continued support brother. Appreciate you.
Damian
Exquisite piece Damian. Well written my friend.
Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Keith. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Appreciate you, brother.
Damian
exceptional read! full of concise, vividly profound imagery…
a sense of melancholic unrest. ~ c
Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, C. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
As you so often do, you stirred levels here again. I read this from the personal perspective of memories slipping. A sense of self lost in blips of time. I also see this as the world arena and how people have lost their sense humanity, their compassion, their community. Like the whole damn world has global amnesia. And I read it as literal amnesia from losing time in the form of blanks in memory from drink or drugs. Many layers, my friend
Thanks so much for reading and your kind words, Willow. So glad you connected with the write my friend. Well you know me, I love when there are multiple meanings and endless possibilities. lol. Sometime’s I think it’s probably little pieces of all those things rolled into one. I follow where my muse leads me. Appreciate you.
Damian