A Dance with PTSD and Time

A face hidden, shrouded in the past,
A face hidden, in memories that last.
A face hidden, in the echoes of a crowd,
A face hidden, beneath a shroud.

A face concealed by the mask of fear,
Haunted by a past that’s never clear.
A face shadowed by the spectre of dementia,
Lost in the labyrinth of its own agenda.

A face hidden is one that’s deprived
Of the present moment—of being alive.
A face hidden becomes invisible,
In the mirror of time, unrecognisable.

A face hidden, lost in the crowd,
In the echoes of silence, screaming loud.
A face hidden is a loss to the world—
A story untold, a tale unfurled.

Dare to remove your mask of fear,
Embrace the present, hold it near.
Dare to be seen, dare to be you—
In the crowd, yet separate too.

Dare to be visible, be in the crowd,
Speak your truth—speak it loudly.
Just dare to be you, remove the mask—
In your own light, dare to bask.

Masks of fear, shadows of time—
In this dance, they intertwine.
In the face of PTSD and dementia’s plight,
Dare to shine. Dare to fight.

By Paul Baldry (LongJohn)