Her father plays such childish games
among his rounds of forgotten names
and swears there’s nothing wrong—a stance
she hopes to overturn, her chance
at saving him, or what remains.
She throws out matches, though he claims
he’ll never lose his home to flames.
In-between a vacant glance,
her father plays
with given pills. Despite all claims
confusion lasts. Still, she blames
ill-fated cerebral circumstance
on genetics’ role, not happenstance.
Dementia’s hymn, a dazed refrain
her father plays.