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Aug 2016
Let's play a game.
A guessing game, Only a few rules applied.
Number One: you listen and I dictate.

My victims can be found residing in a cage of white washed walls,
A place where the clinical sting burns your eyes,
and the once evading smell of **** is turned into an established perfume of solace.

I have the power to turn a fruitful mind into a cavity of nothingness
A once hero, into a point-blank Zero.

I Will take the ‘Fight’ from a Firefighter to leave only a burnt out carcass.
I Will steal the tongue of even the Most eloquent of speakers and turn them into a babbling bumbling fool.

I have the amazing ability to make You overlook Your own child.
What are memories for when I can make them disappear? Make You forget.
Faces that were once recognisable- Your Mother, Your Lover- Now Strangers.

But wait! A glimmer!...A glimpse of your old self before I consumed you...
I let you see what you once had. Let you remember.
It’s all part of the fun, I like to see the hope shine in the eyes of your loved ones before I steal You once more…
The mind again an abyss.

What Am I?
Yes you guessed it…
I Am Your Worst Nightmare.
Based on experiences working as a volunteer in a dementia ward, this poem could been seen as quite a controversial piece of writing. This is because it is a very true and gritty representation of the disease, which I hope people will enjoy.
Written by
Chloe Goldsmith
297
   Doug Potter
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