There’s a thief in the room….



There’s a thief in the room

And she’s stolen my mother,

Replaced her with someone

Entirely another.


The theft was insidious,

Polite and discrete,

But a crime nonetheless,

Absolute and complete.


I ask of the stranger

“Now what have you done,

With the wonderful woman

Who once was my mum?”


But the thief smiles blandly,

She sits in her chair,

With her oversized clothes

And her Special Needs hair.


Who thought it was right

To see us so tormented,

By watching our mum

Become slowly demented?


And where is the justice?

And what’s the defence?

This swap we’ve been given

Is poor recompense.


The cognition of friends

Is still unimpaired,

Part of Life’s Lottery

That their minds were spared.


They travel, spend money,

They laugh, they converse,

They pity my mum and my dad

Which is worse.


“We don’t need your pity”

I want to explain,

“We simply need something

To fix up mum’s brain”.


So I dream of a future

Where smart drug designers

At last put a stop

To this bitch called Alzheimers.


Sorry, that ended up becoming a bit angry but like a good British woman I tamped down my fury and turned it into jolly rhyming couplets instead.  For anyone seeking to emulate my poetic genius and struggling to find words to rhyme with Alzheimer’s may I suggest: Recliners, Jemima’s or indeed Vaginas.

One thought on “There’s a thief in the room….

  1. As you know, We have a friend who’ll happily write inappropriately “vagina” based prose for you in the least expected contexts. So just give us a shout:
    A bottle of red and a guest book awaits. Big hugs, i can imagine Christmas is particularly upsetting. I’m remembering the wonderful festive parties your mum has held and I have enjoyed. Xxx

    Liked by 1 person

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