Dementia Took Grace

Your disease riddled brain

Is causing you pain.

You can’t tell if

There’s sun or there’s rain.

 

You don’t remember your children

They are strangers in the room

They come and they go

They’ll be back soon

 

You could've been a doctor

Or a murdering psychopath.

You’ll never know who you were

And you don’t recognise the staff.

 

They feed you and they wash you,

And you blink in oblivion

Not observing the seconds

As they pass by in the millions.

 

Death is now approaching,

But you’re blissfully unaware

Snoring loudly

All alone in your chair.

 

The day you slip away,

Your family all cry

But you’d been long gone

They could tell by your eyes

 

Dementia stole your soul

Before death stole your face

Bu your children know you

You were their mother, Grace.