Grace
Bright eyes staring vacantly into nowhere
-
Which once had seen everything in her
lifetime.
A sad, wistful smile playing on her
lips,
Her heart thumping softly,
Against her ribcage
Wrinkled hands folding together
On her lap.
Sitting pretty in her yellow summery
dress.
People walk past,
Brief smiles - eyes diverting elsewhere
Breathing softly,
Waiting patiently for a familiar face
Recognising no one around her
Wanting, hoping, wishing to be loved
By - anyone
She's just senile,
Just a nobody
Dumped at a resthome
'Til death parts her from life -
Yet she's yearning to be remembered.
