Dementia
I see her sitting in her chair
The wheels are locked in place
My gaze is met by hollow eyes
No expression on her face
It's clear she does not know me
Nor does she recognize
The life that swirls around her chair
She cannot visualize
In her lap there rests a doll
Cupped within her arm
With the instincts of a mother
She shelters it from harm.
I wonder what still lies within
What thoughts run through her head
When her whole life consists of
Her wheelchair and her bed
How much of life does she retain
What treasures does she hide
How much does she really know
That she keeps locked inside
Does in her heart a love still glow
Do cherished memories play
Or like her withered body
Have they too gone away
I wish that I could reach her
And visit for a while
But I can offer nothing
But compassion and a smile
11/25/2011
Copyright © Bob Quigley | Year Posted 2011
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