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The Gate That Wasn’t There

A Dementia Experience

By Anthony ChanPublished about a year ago • 1 min read
Special Thanks to Elena Soroka on Unsplash.com

I stood at gates I could not find,

A hollow fog consumed my mind.

The airport stretched, yet not the same,

Its walls had shifted, lost their name.

The gate I’d known was always so clear.

Had now vanished into fog and fear.

My memory frayed, no path to show,

No signs remained of where to go.

I asked for help, but met hurried eyes,

Too burdened, to empathize,

Each answer slipped like sand away,

Directions bent, then they lost their way.

No map, no past, no guiding hand,

Just ground that shifted like pebbles of sand.

Forever caught where time won’t bend—

This journey began but had no end.

sad poetry

About the Creator

Anthony Chan

Chan Economics LLC, Public Speaker

Chief Global Economist & Public Speaker JPM Chase ('94-'19).

Senior Economist Barclays ('91-'94)

Economist, NY Federal Reserve ('89-'91)

Econ. Prof. (Univ. of Dayton, '86-'89)

Ph.D. Economics

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    Written by Anthony Chan