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Dementia
BY M.S.
Remember how you felt in the morning
When the dust of dawn was not yet gone
Remember the flashing signs
Your eyes bright with blinding light
Remember the watchtower and the way
And the ocean that stole the golden key
Remember when you still had a memory
When we strolled through the evenings of the past in that great temple
Laughing at its strange columns
Under the shade of its sweet inner trees
Remember when your eyes no longer received light
When they shined so bright you could no longer see?
I suppose you don’t
But I do
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