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BEING LOST
Her week begins Monday
Though she cannot tell
She lies in remission
Where angels might dwell
Smiling in sleep
Simply lost in time
Words no longer able
To muster a sign
Midday could be midnight
Her name she cannot pronounce
Thoughts in her head jumbled
Memories renounced
Her hand cold to the touch
Brow ridged in confusion
Her eyes seem to plead
Replies without conclusion
Mondays roll by
This permanent state
Seclusion is forced
She reclines and she waits
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