Dementia

Emerging hints of a grimace perplexed his face

Trying to de-code the verbal and non-verbal cues

Of the staff who were present for his complex case

For he no longer could trust his pre-frontal cortical process

He was not always so sure of what he was doing

Yet he managed to take care of the basics with little damage

Isolated in a world of his own he longed for the universal

Connection to direct himself and find warmth in affection

He shouted out in an agitated manner and was told to

Sit down and have some water when all he wanted was

His towel so that he could take his daily shower

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world

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