He sits there, with all the dread,
Wandering around, his cluttered head,
He would do best, to move again,
Far away from, these thoughts of pain.
I can no longer, speak for him,
For the thoughts he has, are grim.

Rid those of this disease you have,
for I abhor what I now see.
When you are in the "Sundowner Phase"
you ask many questions off the wall.
Questions that I know not at all.
"Do you remember that young man?"
I'll say, "I can't recall, unless
there are more specifics, for my guess".
I'll say, "Recently or long ago?"
She will say, "I don't know."

For ever more
I'll wait for you.
Please don't tell me
What I am to do.

I look at you and I see,
this resemblance
that looks like me.
Why is that I say to you,
when I'm with the monkeys
at the Woodlawn Park Zoo?