They sit there dreaming

Vivid dreams haunt their consciousness

Strange places, ghostly people, strangers, strange people, dead relatives.

The home becomes a former home,

A railway station, a waiting room,

They smile intermittently, talk a bit

Eat, drink & pee.

They forget things.

It is the drugs or something else?

They are like us

They have hands legs feet

A face with eyes, ears & mouth.

They have fingers & toes

They have hair.

What is this disease Alzheimer’s?

Is it a state of being,

A state of mind,

Or something else?

They are in a corridor

Waiting – waiting for what?

Waiting for an event to happen

Or something else;

The final oblivion – death

The state of being

From which there is no return.

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