Missing Me. - A poem from Tracey Shorthouse

Today we bring to you a poem from Tracey Shorthouse called Missing Me.  You can follow Tracey`s story via @TraceyShorty28 and find out more over on her blog.

Thank you Tracey for letting us share you inspiring words.

Missing Me

Sometimes I miss me, the old me
The girl who liked to go dancing
Now the music seems too loud
I used to spin around with glee
But at least I still love laughing
But I don’t like to be part of the crowd

At times, the noise is too much for me to cope with
Like angry bees stuck in my head, buzzing constantly
I miss going out and about, being part of the crew
But at least I still believe in magic, spirit and myth
And I still believe in honestly
But sometimes I still get blue

I miss driving around, going to different places
And sometimes I do miss work, hard to believe
And I do miss my memory at times
But I still remember some faces
And it’s not like me to grieve and grieve
Although my tastes have changed, I still like my limes

I miss watching the dramas, but get lost easily
Sometimes it’s hard for me to tell fiction from reality
Then I get scared which was never like me
But at least I live peacefully
And will always be free
And I am lucky that I live between the countryside and sea

I loved how I could see the changes of the seasons when out and about
And how the skies change depending on the weather
That was the best thing about being a community nurse
At least, not working means that there is no one left to shout
But who cares as long as we are together
And I am determined that the dementia will not get worse

As friends and family, we have each other’s back
Although it is also nice to be that someone’s special
Someone to see beyond and just see me
It’s nice to be alone, but also nice to be part of a pack
But I also don’t want to meet a devil
And I don’t want to be seen to flee

I don’t like the fact that I get tired
Or that my speech gets slurred
Or that I have to walk with a stick sometimes
It seems mad that I am admired
By some, my vision sometimes gets blurred
But now I have retired I now write rhymes

But on the upside, I am still able to walk
I still garden and explore different areas
By using public transport
Sometimes I have to steed myself as want to balk
But I try not to take myself too serious
And occasionally I still allow myself a glass of port

So although I do miss the old me
I am getting used to this new person
I am still positive and full of beans
And can still make the odd stew
And I quite like this new version
Of me and my family genes

Thanks for reading my blog, You can now view my 8 short flims here! http://tommy-on-tour-2011.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/my-mums-name-was-joan-this-is-our-story.html