Dawn and Dusk

Memory

A brave yet elusive old
friend. Friend? friend...
Yes, the guiding hand
that leads to salvation

He walks in circles,
though he says he's exploring
thirsty for growth
even though he is shrinking

he ran from me when he was needed
and he remained when he was wished away
that little bloated bureaucrat
of the mind, the soul, the body

Each day he smirked and frowned
laughed and cried, hated and loved,
regretted. Regardless all he carried with him 
were those polarizing poles, enveloped in endless battle

He returned to his room each night,
he would scatter and jumble my wears
Shattering fragments of fondness with glee
And turns to me empty handed, acting shocked

But I needed him, and he needed me
he was my life, he was my purpose.
He was me. Everything I hated, loved
feared, felt, was, are, and am

but now he's gone
the "I" is all that's left
if i can even call myself "I"
what am i without him?

a husk.
a shell,
who sees without seeing.
feels without feeling.

Speaker: A wistful old man with dementia

Audience: People who haven’t lost this particular bittersweet gift

Situation: An old man reflects on his time with an old friend (memory), and realizes how life is with and without him

Shift: Most dramatic after 6th Quatrain

Tone: Wistful frustration

Mood: A bittersweet gloom (I dunno, you tell me)

Thesis: In the poem “Memory”, the author portrays the personification of memories as a cruel and unreliable character, while simultaneously glorifying him by describing it as the source of the speaker’s long forgotten joy.

Cheers!