She lives with
The ghosts of yesterday,
Reliving painful memories
Like a sadistic
Groundhog day.
The awful irony
Of taking care
Of her body all these years,
When her mind was
Planning a revolt.
Is she still in there,
The woman I used to know,
Struggling to get out?
Screaming at the injustice
Of her situation?
Banging on the bars
Of her rotting mind?
The very thought
That could be true
Is the saddest thing
Of all.