Monday, July 16, 2007

Poetry 2


Deep within that hollow stare,
of our presence they're unaware.
A special life that's fading away,
in spite of things we try to convey.

Memories locked up in their mind,
and there it's kept all confined.
The good times spent long ago,
with all their love they did bestow.

For these moments will live forever,
and our pride in them will endeavor.
Seeing them lying there we know why,
Alzheimer's is called the long good-bye.

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