It's Cruel and It's Sad

Friends phone and ask How is she today? She's doing just fine I'm forced to say. She loves to sit In her favourite chair, And stare at the door Hoping someone is there. Of course when she speaks She doesn't make sense, And when she stares at the ceiling She is praying for death. I gave her that rag doll From my childhood days, I sense she remembers But few words can she say. We don't have control Over any of our tomorrow's It's so hard to feel alive When we're surrounded by sorrow. It's cruel, and it's sad Can't more be done For this Alzheimer's stranger That has invaded my Mom. Lynn Barany