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Feb 2019
And forth came a glimpse
Of a withered face,
In the broken mirror,
That stands behind the curtain lace
Grey, messy hair bun,
Wrinkle filled sunken eyes
A heavy set of, glass rests
On the nose, pointing skies
The fresh mint tea brew
Excits, the twitched lips
Oh, dear I miss thee -
Thy soul that rips
Guide these trembling hands
To thank in a prayer
The lousy back won't help
For my walker, has lost a pair
Dragging one leg by other
As I sit by the fireplace
Sipping the fragranced tea
Rocking my chair in a pace
Thousands of memories
Rail down my alzheimers head
So many years gone
Now, it's just me and my empty bed
Tears fill and spill by its own will
I got to pack up, for I to, have to leave
Leaving all memories behind
In a slient place to grieve
A small room, I am spared to
At the golden age gardenia
I am almost gone from myself
Just few threads, hanging near...

Recently, visited the Golden Age Home. So many old and left alone people with sorrowful eyes greeted. Inspired.
Written by
Seema  38/F/Fiji Islands
(38/F/Fiji Islands)   
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