The Terrorist

A terrorist kidnapped my Mom,
Her whereabouts are unknown,
And to say she is a hostage,
Would not be overblown.

She’s held captive against her will,
Yet her will is very strong,
I don’t know how to reach her,
She may be there for so long.

I wish that I could rescue her,
Because that is what I do,
But how to go about it,
I haven’t got a clue.

It frustrates me to no end,
I can hardly even sleep,
All I do is think and think,
This slippery slope is getting steep.

I want to ask her, Mom,
What do you want me to do?
But I am afraid of the answer,
And I think you would be too.

I wish I had the ransom,
To pay this terrorist,
But the things I want to do to him,
Make quite a nasty list.

He took from me my Mother,
And all our memories,
I’m not alone, there’s others,
My sisters and our families.

We try and try each day,
To meet his evil demands,
But in the end we’re guilt ridden,
And hold our head in our hands.

Then there is my Dad,
Who suffered the greatest of us all,
An innocent bystander,
Who’s taken the biggest fall.

He no longer has the strength,
To fight this fight with life,
All he knows is ‘something’,
Has robbed him of his wife.

Their marriage wasn’t perfect,
Everyone knows the story,
But he stuck with the vows he took,
Before God and all his glory.

The terrorist, he took my Mom
And now he rings deaths knell,
So all that we have left,
Is an empty, blank faced shell.

This terrorist, he has a name,
And now we know it well,
His name, yes it’s Alzheimer’s,
And it is indeed a living hell.

by Bob Amerault, age 43, Reading, MA