Demetia has been the subject of my study for the last year. Is this how it feels ?

Aren't we merely memories ?
Little tales, small snippets, some stories …
How would life be without connections
A blank canvas, no past, no recollections ?

A shackle free present, no idea of the past
No pain nor happiness – nothing to last
No pride to cherish, No wounds to nurse,
How would life be without them - better or worse?

Just living in the moment – how easy could it be?
Stranger or friend –not knowing who you see…
Not knowing who loves you or what gives you joy…
Not needing to forgive whoever made you cry….

No smells that can bring forth a childhood scene
Tiny treasures in boxes – but what do they mean?
No places to revisit, no paths oft trodden
Bonds deeply buried….quietly forgotten….

Pray give me the troubles, the sorrows of knowing
The perils of remembering, the broken heart crying
I am willing to carry the burden of truth
But let me have my identity, when I rest for good…