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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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