Wandering in the Mist

You have no idea where you are,

you have been left

to wander in the mist

walking up and down this corridor

with a name tag on your wrist.

The faces you see,

you don’t recognise anymore

as you spend your days

searching for the exit door.

What is going on in your mind

is anybody’s guess

but my one small comfort is

you never seem to be in distress.

When I come to visit

I keep you company on your walk,

speaking softly to you

as I try my best to get you to talk.

You look at me as if

you never saw me before,

but it’s me your son

you are choosing to ignore.

What I would give

to hear you call out my name

or even some acknowledgement

you were glad that I came.

After each visit you look at me

and wonder why

you have been kissed,

when I bid you farewell

so you can resume

wandering in the mist.