One of the many problems we can encounter with out illness is the sudden lose of friends once they realize we have any type of dementia, hence I wrote this poem

"Fatuous Gesture"

At the age of fifty-nine, I began to be old,
Marooned as a castaway, on a far barren shore,
In isolation I cried out, where art mine friends,
Friendship should be more than a fatuous gesture,

What is a friend who neer pleasures you a glance,
That turns away retreating, rather than advance,
With a mind thats oblivious to what they cant perceive,
Friendship should be more than a fatuous gesture,

Once I stood dauntless with a dialog to be heard,
Thence friends would applaud with receptive accord,
Yet now I am frail, they care not of what I speak,
Friendship should be more than a fatuous gesture,

No more doth friends pop-in, on the spur-of-the-moment,
Or sit to discuss worldly intellectual issues of the day,
Since my mind doth meander within utter oblivion,
Friendship should be more than a fatuous gesture,

Now far off I stand with apprehensive weeping eyes,
Neer daring to uplift them towards faces of yore,
Yet dost thou not see, all my anguish within heart,
Friendship should be more than a fatuous gesture,

Then should I smite upon my own troubled breast,
Of tainted disease with a deep and conscious guilt opprest,
Though naught have I done to offence friend or foe,
Friendship should be more than a fatuous gesture,

Yet Im still of the same person, striving within my heart,
Tis just my persona and mind that hast drifted apart,
Thus if thee cant accept me, thee cant be true friends,
Friendship should be more than a fatuous gesture,

Thus tis with a broken heart and contrite soul,
I cry out to the Lord, tis not I the trembling sinner,
Since the Lords pardoning grace is far richer and free
As thine friendship is more than a fatuous gesture

Barry