A journey in time with Alzheimer's

The Waiting Room

Lots of people waiting, and waiting I see
Some smile, some don’t, it doesn’t bother me
But you decide what their problem is by looking
You fret  and ponder and your brain is cooking.

You speculate their problems, just by their faces
Seems you see a sadness or maybe just a trace
Of lives full of sorrow or joyful glee
One or the other, or so it seems to me.

There are no boundaries to your eyes  prying
You see children laughing and children crying
You say, they just want to play and run around
But their moms will not  put them down.

There are  older folks, who walk in with assist
You  are thankful you don’t need that too
You  comment on how they look and smile
Some  smile back and make your day worthwhile.

When finally your name is called
You are glad it’s your turn  to go
But I see your eyes linger, and your gait pause
For this has been a social time, I know.

Copyright/ Sheila Grimes/ September 2012

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