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Sherry's Perspective
The room is loud and there are many people here.
The bum be dum of the music deafening to the words the young girl speaks.
Who is the young girl? She looks so familiar…
The chatter of the people talking is too much.
“Hi my name is…” “Yes I love the…” “Will you please…”
I cannot concentrate on one conversation.
“…Sherry?” “…you okay?”
It is all too much… It is all too loud… It is all too crazy…
The bum be dum of the music got louder. Wait, where am I?
The young girl is speaking again. Grandma she calls me.
I have a granddaughter? I am a grandmother?
This is all… … …
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My grandmother has Alzheimer’s so I am writing this poem from her perspective. This is how I imagine that she feels. In the end of the poem she is talking but cannot remember how she was going to finish the sentence so it just cuts out.