BEING QUIZZED
I hate being quized;When my mind itself,
Has lost all its fizz.
I often wonder if, What's
forgotten is ever missed.
My dementia brain,
Is being unkind.
Making me forget,
More of myself,
All of the time.
My mind is like,
That old nursery rhythm.
All the kings horses,
And all the kings men.
Cannot put my brain,
Back together again.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 89 times
Written on 2024-07-03 at 02:49
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