As I mentioned in post; Torn, I had written a poem called, “Cruel Dementia,” just to get it off my chest what I was feeling. Here it is.
My heart now aches, as I watch you take away my aunt.
Taking her away, piece by piece.
Somewhere in there, my aunt may want to speak…
But you prevent!
I have gone from feeling this ache,
to grieving like the rest of my family.
Looking at each of them, feeling and seeing their pain.
Seeing and feeling their helplessness.
Dementia taking away what my aunt would like to do.
Now sleeps in bed. Dementia taking away her taste for food.
This is all you do and probably more, cruel dementia.
I hate you, cruel dementia and I wish you did not exist.
by Elizabeth Fisher
Copyright© Elizabeth Fisher
5th December 2016