Rearrange Me ‘Til I’m Sane – A poem for ‘Inspiration Monday’

Another poem in response to one of the writing prompts from ‘Inspiration Monday’. This prompt was, ‘Rearrange me ’til I’m sane.’

Rearrange Me ‘Til I’m Sane

I’m sat in a chair
in a place they call home.
I don’t recognize it but
it’s where I live.
There are other people here like me,
old and frail
lost in this strange world
they call home.
I’m sat in this chair
looking out of the window
staring at my reflection
but I don’t recognize the person
looking back at me.
A stranger.
He’s old, so old.
Wispy hair,
a wrinkled face,
gnarled hands.
His whole body
wrapped tightly in that chair.
A warm blanket
holding him  fast
less  he escape.
I try to speak
to ask the reflection who he is
but only spittle and strange noises
fall from my mouth.
I watch him dribbling like a baby.
Young ladies in blue uniforms
start to rearrange me,
wipe my chin,
straighten my cushion,
tuck my blanket around me even more tightly.
They smile at me,
their words sound kind but meaningless.
I want to answer them
but the words wont come.
They think I’m mad,
an old mind
too tired to work any more.
I so want to talk to them
about my life,
my dreams,
the love and the heartache I have seen.
Instead, I just dribble and gurgle.
They respond by smiling and
rearranging me again
in my small world,
another shift of the cushion,
more tucking in.
If only these Angels in blue
could get inside my head
rearrange my mind,
and make me sane again.




    That was totally and utterly not only moving but mesmerizing as well from the first word to the last. You captured the feeling of becoming a stranger trapped within the slowly decaying form that is old age so well.
    I was impressed and moved by this piece. Please, keep writing and sharing, for you have a true gift.

    sending you a cyber hug for luck and happiness,

    marantha jenelle of “GHOST WRITER” here on wordpress


  2. chesshirecat

    This kinda hit home. My ex-mother in law was hospitalized for a month after a devastating stroke. She could understand everything going on around her. She could feel pain, but she could not move her right side or verbalize what was going on in her mind. She was locked inside. She passed last week, and while she and I didn’t get along, I felt so bad for her. It was a blessing for her to leave the world. What a sad thing for all who love her.


    1. Mike

      Thank you for your comments.
      Old age and all that can go with it can be quite frightening.
      It must be awful to be locked inside your own head not being able to communicate with the world around you.


    1. Mike

      Thank you for your very kind comments.
      It is responses like this that make me think I ought to try more of this ‘poetry’ – though I do sometimes wonder if I’m cheating somewhat by calling it poetry.


  3. MyWordsWhisper

    What a powerful, powerful poem! I want to print it and keep it near always. I am at the point in my life where I see children struggle to care for their parents, and, in the end, the parents ‘are sat in a chair’.

    Thank you for words that make us think and remind us to live the best we can each moment of our lives!


    1. Mike

      Thank you so much for your very kind words. I feel quite humbled that anyone would want to print out a piece of my work and keep it near them.
      It is support like yours that motivates me to write more.


  4. penpusherpen

    I think old age is something we all fear… should fear, as it turns us into children again, relying on others, having to do as someone says., under someone else’s control.. Oh yes, fear is the start of it… and you’ve nailed it completely Mike…. to be locked inside a useless body, totally aware but unable to say so or show it’s so. A horror ending to life… xPenx


    1. Mike

      Many thanks Kay.
      So often we want to tuck people in to make them feel better or safer. I remember as a child, if ever I was sick my mum used to tuck me up tightly in bed – it was almost a sign of saying ‘you’re save now, the germs can’t get you’.


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