The Home
Echoes of the woman's tea-leaf warnings
bounce in my head...
I stare at the spilled apple sauce
all over my bed...
I watch the flickering TV in the convalescent home...
My pharmacy number is in my phone...
I dream in German but can't utter a word...
My memories blurred... My speech slurred...
Remember when we were blissful and unwed?
Why did you leave? Was it something I said?
My mind is not what it used to be...
I'm a rotting shell of stupidity...
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