Life Scene of a Senior

The last 4 years of clear all now blur to one.

The last 4 years seem so surreal,

As if I just dreamt,

Is it really from memory?

The ones I've grown to love,

And ones I've grown to loath,

Just a hairpin from gone,

Just a handshake till memory.

How does one keep sane,

When one's comfort spot fades to grey?

When all one has known,

Is soon to leave the one as a distant memory?

But it must be left as this,

A reality of fun that cannot stay,

The ones that do are gone away,

For what the world does see is,

Some indescribable memories.